


Waurelt's Mystery Club

by sunnyshea



Category: Original Work
Genre: Magic, Magic and Science, Multi, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Necromancy, Romance, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Supernatural Elements, Urban Fantasy, Urban Science Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22195540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyshea/pseuds/sunnyshea
Summary: [UPDATES: AS FINISHED (THANKS SCHOOL)]Thanatos Briar is a renowned detective not just in his country, the United Kingdom, but across the globe in the criminal/law enforcement world. A genius at only 19, he's solved dozens of cases complicated by the magic that inhabits today's society of spells, potions, witches, and technology. Follow his cases as he meets and befriends members of the soon-to-be Waurelt's Mystery Club!CURRENTLY: Case One - The Tree of DeathThanatos is called to Waurelt's Academy of Magic and Technology- the prestigious boarding school his younger sister was just accepted into -to investigate the gruesome murders of several of its female students. Working with roommate Jonny and student council president Rebecca, the three must get to the bottom of this killing spree before the school's students and reputation are dragged to hell.(Cross-posted to WattPad and RoyalRoad.)
Kudos: 6





	1. Case One - Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This originally started as an RP through very close friend and fellow author Julie Lerche (@Binaryandlove on Twitter, Kate East on Scribophile), much like her novel "The Fox and the Fallen Prince". I've been wanting to do something with these witch kids, like this, since my early storytelling days. Since magic, mysteries, and ragtag fun casts (thanks, JRPGs) have always been a key element of most of my stories, Waurelt's Mystery Club and the things Thanatos will experience with all of you will hopefully be a fun, engaging experience for myself and you, the audience!
> 
> I do all the revising and editing myself, and the writing is a combo of mapped out (from the RP), major overhauls of the original plan, and total improvisation in order to keep things dynamic. That being said, I wholeheartedly accept feedback and constructive criticism, and I WILL be updating chapters AND archive warnings as needed, even if they've already been posted and revised before. Doing a webnovel, thankfully, gives me that chance!
> 
> Lastly, illustrations WILL be paired with each chapter and included in revision updates as they are drawn, so look out for those! Of course, when book on is done, these illustrations will be in both the planned PDF and physical copies.
> 
> Thank you for reading this introduction of mine, and have fun! Let's see who can keep up with Thanatos case by case and maybe even catch whodunit before he does. Good luck!
> 
> \- Sam "Sunny Cider" Roberts

“Use this chance to make some friends, okay?”

Though his sister had sent a smile with that text message, Thanatos Briar couldn’t help but sigh, tuck his phone into his coat pocket, and stare at the approaching front gate out the car window.

“No falling asleep now, Ato,” says Detective William Grant from the driver’s seat beside him. “All your bags are there, yeah? Besides the ones in the back seat?”

“Mm,” he hums in confirmation. “Do take care of the apartment.”

“Your mother would kill me if I didn’t, and so would you.” Thanatos rolls his eyes, but William only laughs. “You know it’s true.”

The car comes to a gentle, rolling halt in front of the massive metal gate, and Thanatos quickly exits. William follows suit, and the two find themselves standing face to face. William rubs at his dark stubble.

“Don’t do anything dumb.”

“Have I ever?”

“In your eyes, probably not, but you get what I mean.“ It does nothing to relieve William of his droopy eyes, and Thanatos offers a glimmer of a smile. William pats his head softly, and Thanatos squints his eyes shut at the feeling.

“Atta boy. Go get ‘em.”

Thanatos lightly brushes William’s hand away with his arm. _‘I’m not a child,’_ says the look on his face. It can’t be helped that William feels that way, though. He knows this all too well. They’ve been _his_ children for years.

“I’ll call you should something occur.”

“Yeah.”

And so, Thanatos turns away and steps into the gateway, long dark grey trench coat fluttering behind him and letting its silvery white lining glisten in the sun. His hair, much the same colour, doesn’t hesitate to do the same. He doesn’t look back as William says goodbye, gets into his car, and drives away. Hazel eyes stay forward.

Waurelt’s Academy of Magic and Technology, a school topping the charts not just in its home country of Britain but across the world as one of the premiere high school level education facilities for magic and related sciences. He had seen schools like these; he’d _attended_ a school like this years ago for his bachelor’s degree. It was joint with a university run by the same administration. 

The land is neatly kept with its green grass even in this finely cold October, and the pavement is immaculately clean. Bushes lining this short straight pavement were trimmed into statuesque figures. Brief glances at each one’s plaque revealed them to be former headmasters of this old school.

Speaking of old, Thanatos takes in the sight of the buildings themselves. It’s held inside a white castle with newer looking buildings and additions branching off of them. His clothing, dark and modern, feels rather out of place here— not that it bothers him —compared to the traditional aesthetic of Waurelt’s uniform he’d seen his sister wearing.

The path is a short one to a round courtyard in front of the school’s main entrance. Circular, the path splits and surrounds a set of five large fountains and many white wooden benches. Even more of these benches are methodically peppered along the outside the white stone path. Students bustle and mingle here and there, and Thanatos waves with a forced, charming smile to several young women who begin chatting about and staring at him. Truly, he did not belong here.

“Excuse me, misses?” he beckons one of them, approaching the giggling gaggle of girls. They all smile excitedly and run to meet him, save for one that’s being pulled along. The rest look at her expectantly.

“Y-yes?” asks the dragged, shy girl with short black hair and fogging glasses. Their breaths all steam in the cold, as does his when he continues.

“Would one of you accompany me to the headmaster’s office? I have an important meeting with Mrs. Waurelt, but this is my first time here, and…” He trails off, worriedly pulling out his phone to check the time. “I’m afraid I’m running late.”

The girls chat among themselves, but the brunette speaks up again first. “I don’t mind!”

“Yeah, if anyone knows where it is, it’s our dear Student Council Secretary here.” One of the others grins and pats her on the back roughly.

“Fantastic. If you would please, then, Miss…?” Thanatos trails off in wait.

“Winnie! W-Winnie Matthews, sir.” Winnie extends her shaking hand so quickly that it must be habit. Her pale face grows redder, but Thanatos pays it no mind and obliges a handshake “It- It’s a pleasure.”

“Of course, Miss Matthews, but the pleasure—in truth—is all mine.” All the other girls giggle and whisper, but Winnie clutches at her white uniform skirt. “Shall we?”

“Yes!” Winnie exclaims a little too loudly, and she briskly walks towards the school’s massive front door. A girl scoffs, but Thanatos pretends he didn’t hear it or their words as he follows suit.

Catching up, he glances down from the corner of his eye to observe her. She seems a little more relaxed, he thinks, and figures it best to relax a little himself. Thanatos releases an audible, tired sigh and partially covers his mouth to yawn. Winnie peeks up.

“A long trip, sir?”

He laughs a little. “Yes, slightly.” Her eyes sparkle, and she returns the smile. “I’m from London, so the ride out here wasn’t too long, but there isn’t much to see until the school comes to view.”

“You _live_ in London? That’s much larger than where I’m from.” Winnie pulls her phone from her small over-the-shoulder purse and brings up a photo. Thanatos leans down a little to get a better look. “It’s just a tiny village towards the north.”

“Ah, I’ve been there. Very quaint indeed.”

Winnie stares at him in awe before her smile turns sad, and she begins flipping through photos. “You don’t have to lie, Mr. Briar.”

Thanatos frowns briefly. He’ll attribute it to his reputation. “I’m not,” he replies smoothly. “Hold pride in it.”

“Ah-“

“The headmaster’s office, Miss Matthews?”

Winnie stares for a moment before blushing and tucking away her phone. “Right, sorry. This way!”

Thanatos dismisses Winnie with the kindest yet smallest smile he can muster, and she shuffles off with red cheeks and happy grin, looking at Thanatos’ contact information in her phone. Pushing in on the pale wooden doors, he enters Headmaster Waurelt’s office chambers feeling a buzz in his coat pocket.

The room is large, with a set of stairs towards the back that frame the large window and lead to an open balcony lined with bookshelves and other doors. If he recalls from the blueprints, they’re mostly just storage space and a bathroom. In front of the window is a decorated and neatly organized desk, and in front of _that_ , in a pristine white velvet chair, is Barbara Waurelt herself.

Mid-forties, olive-skinned, and of thicker physique, she looks up at Thanatos with accusatory eyes. She tucks a strand of greying blonde hair behind her ear. “You’re _early_ , Mr. Briar.”

“Only by an hour.”

“And where is Ms. Hawthorne? The student who was to guide you _prior_ to our meeting today?” Sitting up properly, she stacks her papers and sets them aside to rest and fold her hands in their former place.

Thanatos strides forward, leaving his suitcase by the door, and inspects the room casually with his hands behind his back. “I had another student bring me here. It was more convenient.”

“You _wasted_ the time of a student not involved,” she scolds harshly, voice something sour.

“But isn’t it the student council’s job to act as ambassadors? Miss Matthews was awfully kind in assisting me; it’d be unfortunate to speak of it in vain,” he retorts.

Mrs. Waurelt sighs and taps the desk with her finger. “So she doesn’t know you’re here, correct?”

“Most likely.”

Pressing the pager on her desk, she speaks softly into it, and not but a few moments later, an announcement in a soft yet androgynous voice resounds throughout the school. _“Ms. Rebecca Hawthorne, please come to the headmaster’s office.”_

“Yes, much more convenient,” Thanatos adds after a pause.

“ _Behave_ yourself, Mr. Briar,” she threatens not just with words but a flick of her finger that sends the book he’s observing right into his forehead. “Even if it’s only for a short time, you _are_ a student here, so you need to act like one.”

Thanatos promptly puts the book away and fixes his hair. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And where is your uniform? You must dress like a student of ours as well. Be grateful we spared the expense for you.”

“I assure you, my gratitude is high, Headmaster.” Higher than he can express, he thinks. “So-“

Thanatos is interrupted by the doorknob clicking and the hinges creaking as a young woman, hair red as autumn pulled into a high ponytail, skin tan and clear, and uniform in perfect condition enters the room. She offers a curtsey to the headmaster without giving Thanatos a second thought.

“Headmaster Waurelt, you called for me? If this is about the tour for the new student, then I’m afraid he hasn’t arrived yet.” She stands up straight again and approaches the desk. She takes a seat at Mrs. Waurelt’s motion.

“No need, Ms. Hawthorne. It seems our esteemed guest made a change of plans all on his own.” The headmaster gestures to Thanatos leaning against the wall and watching the two of them disinterestedly. “Ms. Hawthorne, please meet Mr. Thanatos Briar.”

Briefly rising to curtsey again, she says, “Rebecca Hawthorne. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Thanatos nods. “No need for formalities.” He waves in dismissal. “If you would get to the point, the more time we waste with this, the less time I’ll have to investigate.” Besides, seeing her insincere smile hurts his eyes.

Mrs. Waurelt sighs. “Of course.”

“Wait, investigation?” Rebecca turns towards the headmaster in confusion. “I was aware of him being a detective, but is something happening?”

Thanatos takes his seat in the chair behind hers and cross his legs. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” he says half-mockingly. Rebecca squints at him.

“Unfortunately, that is the case.” Mrs. Waurelt removes several manila files from her desk drawer and slides them forward. She snaps her fingers, and every door in the room _locks_. Rebecca glances back briefly to the entrance, but Thanatos instead focuses on the folders. “While Mr. Briar will be a student here, as you were told, it’s only to work.”

“Right…” she turns back towards the headmaster. “I swear, not a single thing will leave this room. My lips are sealed.”

Mrs. Waurelt smiles. “Of course. You have yet to fail me, Ms. Hawthorne.”

Rebecca Hawthorne, from what Thanatos can recall, is the current student council president and heiress to the largest potion making company in all of Europe. A personal tour with her might seem like an excellent opportunity for any new student considering her reputation and standing, but Thanatos decided with little hesitation not to bother.

“Which is why,” the headmaster continues, “you will be working with Mr. Briar on this case during his stay.”

Thanatos stops all movement. Well, perhaps he _should_ have bothered.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Waurelt, but that’s not necessary,” he protests coldly. “As fantastic as that sounds, it’d be too conspicuous to suddenly be buddy-buddy with someone such as Ms. Hawthorne.”

Rebecca grits her teeth and smiles politely. “Our headmaster knows best, Mr. Briar, and I’m more than willing to cooperate for the sake of the students.” She reaches for one of the files. “Is this going to be dangerous?”

“Mr. Briar, if you would.” One glance at the headmaster told Thanatos that if he didn’t take it down a notch, she’d probably kill him, so he obliges.

“Mrs. Waurelt believes that a necromancer has infiltrated the academy and its students or faculty. As necromancy is primarily for reviving, manipulating, and communicating with the dead, when it’s used to kill someone, it becomes more difficult to trace.” Thanatos points to the photos in the file Rebecca holds. “Two victims thus far have been claimed by such methods, and since this case is far too _difficult_ for standard police, I’ve been hired instead.”

He can practically _see_ the way Rebecca’s brain halts, short-circuits, and reboots in a manner of seconds. She gapes almost angrily at him. “ _Victims?!”_ Her hand balls into a fist on top of the desk, and Mrs. Waurelt gently places her own over it. Rebecca settles a little and gazes with worried eyes. “Mrs. Waurelt, when he says victims, does he mean-“

“The deceased, yes. I’m afraid it’s so.”

Rebecca’s shoulders slump. “But what does this have to do with me?”

“Yes, Mrs. Waurelt, I too would like to know the answer.”

The headmaster laces her fingers in front of her face and closes her eyes. “Ms. Hawthorne would be a valuable asset. She’s at the top of her class, excellent with the students-“ Rebecca’s mood perks with every word of praise. “-and knowledgeable of this school’s affairs.”

“I see. Then she’s welcome to assist me,” Thanatos says with a pinch of disdain.

Rebecca leans forward and places her hand over her heart. “I swear to you, Mrs. Waurelt, I’ll do everything in my power to protect this school and its people. If someone that dangerous is truly here, then leave it to me.”

The headmaster’s smile returns. “I expect nothing less from you, Ms. Hawthorn. You have yet to disappoint, and surely this will be no different.” Directed at Thanatos, her expression flips. “This will be kept as discreet as possible. No publicity, no innocent students involved, nothing.”

Thanatos nods and rises, gathering the files. “Of course.”

“Then you’re both dismissed.”

Rebecca follows suit, and just as they’re approaching the door, Mrs. Waurelt snaps again to unlock it.

“Oh, and Mr. Briar?” she asks after him, and he turns in acknowledgment.

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget our contract.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! All FAQ stuff will be added down here as needed. If there are any question, comments, critiques, or concerns, feel free to comment below or email me at sunnytothed@gmail.com


	2. Case One - Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter conveys a character experiencing a described anxiety attack in some detail! It's not that in-depth, but it's towards the end in case anyone wants to keep an eye on it.

Their walk is rather silent, and even though Thanatos prefers it this way, Rebecca has other ideas. She looks up at him through her reddish lashes with rust-coloured eyes in quick glances. “It’s impolite.”

Thanatos raises a brow. “You’ll have to be specific.”

“Speaking to the headmaster that way _and_ ignoring your designated meeting times,” she says, huffing. “It’s the middle of the day; she wanted to meet with you during lunch hour for seniors.”

“And _I_ wanted to meet with her earlier so I would waste less time playing student.”

“You _are_ a student!” Rebecca steps in front of him, hands fisted and on her hips, face scrunched. “I read about you, Mr. Briar! Big, famous detective you are, that doesn’t matter here.”

He peers out the window beside them. Coolly, “The girls would say otherwise.” Rebecca scoffs and turns on her heel, walking faster. Thanatos quickly catches up with casual strides.

“I _suppose_ I’ll take you to your dorm room first so you can settle,” she bites out. “Unfortunately, despite your request, all we have are doubles free, so you’ll be rooming with a senior in the boys’ dorm.”

“This would’ve been nice to know _before_ arriving, Ms. Hawthorne.”

“His name is Jonny Greenwell,” she continues, ignoring him and pulling out her phone. “A bit of a ‘doofus’ according to most peers, but he’s got a clean record. His—your—room is 206.”

“Far too inconvenient. Is there not a way to-“

“The headmaster’s word is final,” Rebecca stops him. Thanatos sighs and tucks his free hand into his coat pocket. In front of him, Rebecca smirks to herself.

* * *

The dorms are much like the main building: old, white, and the image of perfection. Of course, decorations don each door, and Thanatos makes brief note of a few. Soon, they reach room 206, and a chill runs Thanatos’ spine.

Rebecca knocks on the door. “Student Council President Hawthorne. Mr. Greenwell, your new roommate is here.”

“Oh, yeah! Comin’!”

Rebecca cranes her neck to stare down Thanatos. “You’re not expected to attend classes today, but here’s your schedule.” She offers a black file full of papers, but he raises a hand in protest.

“No need. Classes won’t be necessary.”

“What part of _student_ don’t you get?” She forces the file against his chest.

Thanatos clenches his jaw, takes the file, and tucks it into his messenger bag. “Clearly, your research was not done well, Ms. President,” he retorts, and before Rebecca can answer, the door opens. Thanatos represses the boiling in his chest for now to focus on this new roommate of his, and it seems that Rebecca does the same.

Jonny Greenwell, to Thanatos’ observation, is exactly what he was expecting. Short, wispy blond hair tucked into a beanie, Jonny is a pale-skinned American boy in skater fashion with dozens of freckles, bright blue eyes, and the longest lashes Thanatos has ever seen. Unlike the one Rebecca offers, Jonny’s smile reaches his eyes.

“Hey! Sorry, uh, about the mess.” Jonny scratches the back of his neck. Thanatos peers past him and almost feels like screaming. “I was expecting you, but I totally forgot to fix the place up before classes. Come on in, though, and uh… make yourself at home!” Jonny steps aside.

Thanatos deliberately steps in front of Rebecca to go first, and—completely disregarding Jonny—he pulls out a pen. “Which side?” he asks coldly, and Jonny stutters.

“Ah, uh, l-left.”

The pen is twirled before pointing at the trash and laundry underneath the left-side bed and flinging it to the right side. Thanatos moves to the desk there, kicks out the chair, and takes a seat. He wastes no time retrieving his computer from his bag.

“Woah,” Jonny breathes in nervous awe. He leans down to Rebecca’s level. “Are y’all sure this is fine? Did I already piss him off?”

“No,” Rebecca sighs. “That seems to be his… _personality_.” Stepping inside, Rebecca pulls out a clipboard from her backpack. “Just sign this here, please. It’s a non-disclosure agreement stating you won’t reveal any details of Mr. Briar’s current work to the public, etcetera.” She offers him her trademark smile, playing with a strand of her hair, and batting her lashes. Ah, Thanatos eyes from his seat, that’s the game she plays.

Jonny nods quickly and doesn’t hesitate to sign it, eyes never truly leaving Rebecca’s face. “Here y’go, ma’am!”

“Perfect! Thank you so much, Mr. Greenwell. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to email the student council, okay?” Jonny nods again, and Rebecca giggles. Thanatos has to force himself not to shudder.

“Sure thing!”

Rebecca winks and shuts the door, leaving the boys alone. Thanatos breathes an audible sigh of relief and sinks properly into the chair. “For the record,” he begins, “I _loathe_ messes. I suggest you clean yours; it’s terrible in here.”

“Right, yeah, like I said: I forgot. Plus, I didn’t really _feel_ like it?” Jonny’s still grinning, and he approaches Thanatos with an outstretched hand. “Jonathan Jonny Greenwell.”

Thanatos eyes the hand, Jonny’s face, then the hand again. He takes it begrudgingly and shakes. “Yes… of course. Thanatos Briar. Your knack for laziness and mess is truly a talent.” Despite his deadpan, disinterested delivery, Jonny snorts and snickers.

“Thanatos? That’s a supervillain name.”

“Specifically, it’s the name of the Greek god of death.” He wipes his hand on his pants and goes back to typing. “You have the name of a campy superhero.”

“Hell yeah! Fitting for roommates then, dude! The perfect pair,” he laughs.

“Yes, but it’d be even more perfect if you’d _leave me_ to my work,” Thanatos replies icily, but Jonny doesn’t seem deterred whatsoever. He just stands there, leaning over Thanatos’ shoulder like a curious puppy with a wagging tail.

“So, like, you’re here on detective work? Cos, that’s what you do, right? The headmaster told me it’d be somethin’ like that, so I Googled your name ‘n’ stuff, and you do detective work.”

“Ah, so the skater boy has a brain.”

“Hey, don’t be mean! If we’re gonna live together, it’s only fair I know about you and visa versa.” Jonny drags his own chair over quickly, crossing the black rug between the beds, and plops down into it. “Is it dangerous?”

“About as dangerous as you are _nosy_.” He sighs and briefly looks over. “Yes, so I suggest you stay out of it, Mr. Greenwell.”

“Hey, no formalities, man! Just Jonny’s fine.” He pauses in thought then grins. “Yeah, Jonny’s just fine, Toasty.”

That makes Thanatos halt entirely, the clicking of his keyboard silencing immediately. His gaze turns into a slow head turn, squint, and furrowed brows. “… _Toasty?_ ”

“Yeah, Thanatos. Zoom in on the ‘tos’ part. Toasty.” Jonny chuckles. “What, never had a nickname?”

“I have, but that’s certainly a new one.” Thanatos stares, and Jonny’s warmth radiates like sunshine. It makes it difficult to keep the tenseness in his shoulders. He and Sibylla would get along. Thanatos offers a small smile. “Most just call me Ato.”

Jonny’s smile widens, and he punches Thanatos’ shoulder lightly. “Nah, Toasty is much better! More creative!”

Thanatos’ hand instinctually comes up to brush against where he was hit, and he stares at the spot. No, ignore it. Ignore it. He hastily returns to his laptop. “Do you know what would also be much better, Jonny?”

Jonny perks up at the use of his name. “Hm? Yeah?”

“A clean room.”

Jonny groans, and he pushes away from Thanatos with his feet, but when his chair hits the edge of the rug, the wheels catch on it. He squawks as he’s sent tumbling backwards in his desk chair. He groans and rubs at the back of his head. He groans again when a small pile of laundry falls from Jonny’s bed and onto his face.

Thanatos smiles behind one hand as the other puts his pen away.

* * *

“Say, Toasty, dinner service is about to start, wanna come?” Jonny asks from their shared bathroom. Thanatos can smell the men’s deodorant and body spray he uses from his desk.

Classes have ended for the day, and Jonny got back from his last one about an hour ago. It seems they run from 8:00 AM to 6:00 PM with the senior’s lunch being from 1:00 PM to 2:00 PM, Thanatos notes on his planner. With the wide array of classes, it’s only natural they run a little longer than the average high school. Not that he’d know first-hand, though; he was home-schooled until college.

“Dinner service?” he inquires, only half-interested. His work is, truly, more important, but his stomach argues against him.

“Yeah, it’s like a buffet sorta thing. It’s pretty good! I usually eat with my friends, and we meet up right before it opens.”

Jonny comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his neck, boxers on full display, and hair still damp from his shower. Thanatos swallows and keeps his eyes on his screen. He precisely wanted to avoid a roommate for this among many other reasons. “I see. Yes, Sibylla has spoken of this system before.” He read it on the school’s website.

“Sibylla, huh? Your girlfriend?”

Thanatos frowns. “My sister.”

“Oh, is she cute? Can I meet her?” Jonny rustles through his drawers. “You ain’t half bad, so she’s _gotta_ be- Ow!” He rubs at his back at the feeling of something hitting it. Looking down, it’s one of Jonny’s own shoes… one that was on the other side of the room. He blinks at Thanatos.

“Flirt with her, and I’ll castrate you myself.”

“Yeesh,” he hisses. “Fine, fine, whatever, you want food or not?”

“No.” Thanatos stomach growls far too loudly for his own comfort. Jonny grins and gestures towards the origin of the noise. He sighs. “Yes, fine. Do I need to wear my uniform?”

“Nope!”

Thanatos, now unpacked, grabs clothing from his wardrobe. “Perfect,” he says, rushing into the bathroom and hastily shutting the door.

The cafeteria could house elephants if it so desired. With its high ceiling, plentiful space, and vast amounts of food and tables, Thanatos was sent back to younger days in similar venues, though the thought makes him swallow a lump in his throat. Much like everything else at Waurelt’s it was clean, white, and calculated. Despite the oldness of the cafeteria building, the inside was decadently modern and minimalistic without ever losing its vintage Victorian hints. It’s a well-kept building for something from an era over 200 years ago.

“Just show ‘em your student I.D. and you can get anything you wanna eat, okay?” Jonny instructs, and as they go through the lines, it takes all of Thanatos’ focus not to brush any shoulders or think about how many people are in here. Jonny looks at Thanatos’ plate as they approach a table near the farthest corner of the room. “Is that really all you’re gonna eat, dude? Your stomach was at _bear_ level growls.”

Thanatos, not dignifying the comment with any retort, merely shoots him a side-eye. Jonny laughs, and the grin only grows when two other boys holler at him.

“Oi! Jonny-boy!” yells one, a kid with darker skin and large round glasses. Jonny picks up his pace to return the offered fist bumps. Thanatos, only a _little_ awkwardly, stands behind Jonny and looks away. The other boy, pale and freckled skin with messy auburn hair, isn’t having any of it.

“Who’s the grumpy guy?” he asks.

Jonny sets his plate down on the table so he can swing an arm around Thanatos shoulder. Thanatos immediately stiffens. “He’s my new roommate, y’all. Be nice to him; I _mean_ it.” There’s no real threatening tone to his words. “And-“ he turns to Thanatos. “-these are Mason and Eddie.” He gestures to the tan one and pale one in that order, and Thanatos makes a lazy note of it.

“Thanatos Briar,” he says succinctly.

“Oh, like the detective, yeah?” asks Mason.

“He _is_ the detective, stupid!” Eddie scolds in a lower tone, punching Mason in the arm. “Haven’t you ever seen the news on TV?”

“Nah, mate, that’s for oldies.”

Jonny is snickering, but he makes sure to get Thanatos comfortable and eating in a chair at the table. They watch as the other two continue to bicker.

“Oldies? It’s for the educated.”

“You say that,” Mason laughs, mouth half full. “But we both know my grades could use some improvement.”

“Oh!” Jonny exclaims, and they stop dead in their tracks. Eddie closes his gaping mouth, and Mason finishes chewing. He looks at Thanatos. “You’re smart, so you could help.”

Thanatos, with a fork full of mashed potatoes, stares him down hard. He swallows and leans a bit away. “Not interested. I’m rather busy.”

“Solving crimes, I bet!” says a girl passing by in a group of them. Thanatos dabs at his mouth with a napkin. “It takes a lot of work to catch killers, so you boys could take some notes.” The other girls giggle and whisper in agreement as Mason sticks out his tongue. Eddie sighs.

“Now, now,” Thanatos starts, pulling out the charm. His smile is so soft yet so eye-catching, and he crosses his legs with grace. He offers to take her hand in his gloved own, and she gingerly obliges with a beet-red face. “Save your lovely voices for something more worth your while.”

“Did he just insult us?” whispers Mason.

“I think so,” Eddie whispers back.

“W-Well, um-“ The student stutters, and all her friends watch in awe.

“It’s alright,” Thanatos continues. “Perhaps we can speak some other time more privately. Please, do eat before your food gets cold, all of you; It’d break my heart to see you upset because you didn’t.” He gently releases her hand after giving it a small squeeze, and she holds it gently to her chest.

She tries to speak again, but she instead nodded quickly and turns on her heel. After one of the others asks for an autograph and gets her notepad signed, they all quickly follow suit. The excited chatting between them doesn’t quiet until they’re a few tables away.

Thanatos sighs, smile dropping instantaneously, and he resumes with his rather bland mashed potatoes. The other boys stare at him _hard_ , and they turn into glares when he sighed in disgust.

“What the _hell_ was that?! How can you not care about like _five_ hot girls giving you all their attention?” Mason pries angrily, crumbs on his cheeks. He points his fork at Thanatos accusingly. “So unfair!”

“It’s totally unfair,” grumbles Eddie.

Jonny drags his hands down his face, “I can’t even get a _date_.”

“You’re a _bastard_ ,” Mason adds.

Thanatos shrugs. “I don’t care about it,” he says bluntly. 

Jonny leans in, bewildered, “Don’t _care_? How? If it were me, and I had whatever the hell that just was, there’d be no chance wasted!”

“As any man with a working brain would do!” Mason adds. “Sometimes, thinking with your other head isn’t such a bad thing, Thanatos.” He points downwards with his finger, moving it in circles, and Thanatos feels his head start to hurt.

Jonny nods in agreement. “But, man, girls make it so confusing…”

“Not really,” says Eddie, poking at his mashed potatoes. “You two are just dumbasses.”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Mason retorts.

Did _all_ high school boys waste their time like this? Thanatos puts down his spoon and stares at the wood grain of the table. His head is spinning. When did the cafeteria get so loud? The pressure of every presence presses against his skin like thick mud, and Jonny’s _stupid_ accent is making his ears bleed.

Mason points his fork at Thanatos, jabbing it in the air a few times. “Oh! Oh! What if Mr. Suave over here can land us someone nice, yeah? Maybe he’ll even find a girl he likes, too.”

“Cut it out,” Eddie mutters, eyeing Thanatos, but it goes ignored.

Jonny laughs with his mouth full of mush. “That’d be so tight!” He swings his arm around Thanatos’ shoulders, and Eddie palms his forehead. “Whaddya say… bud?”

Thanatos shoots out of his chair more dramatically than comfortable, and it catches a few glances, but he ignores them with every burning, quivering fibre of his being. He practically slams Jonny’s arm onto the table. He can’t breathe at all.

“Excuse me,” he says. His ears are burning. “I need to get back to work.” And so, Thanatos picks up his plate and briskly walks away before Jonny can stop him. Behind him, he hears Eddie’s voice.

“ _Idiots_ ,” Eddie berates.

It’s too much. There are whispers and glances and even someone calling his name, but it sounds too much like TV static. None of it can penetrate his overloading brain, so after disposing of his dinnerware, Thanatos rushes out of the door and into another without ever looking up from the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! All FAQ stuff will be added down here as needed. If there are any question, comments, critiques, or concerns, feel free to comment below or email me at sunnytothed@gmail.com


	3. Case One - Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, we finally get some investigating in! Although, Ato, aren't you investigating the wrong things? Focus, boy, focus!

It wasn’t exactly his  _ plan _ to get lost. No, in fact, his plan had been to go back to his dorm room, bury himself in his work, and pretend as though he didn’t get  _ embarrassingly _ upset over something as trivial as an  _ anxiety attack _ .

“It’s not even that bad,” Thanatos grumbles to himself. Disappointment burns in his stomach, and he wills it to settle so hard that his sister would say he’s going to pop a blood vessel. “Let it  _ go _ .”

He slumps against the hallway of the main school building. It’s dark now, not just outside but inside as well what with the lights dimmed or off for the night. Thanatos checks his phone. It’s almost 7:00 PM.

Curling up into a ball, knees against his chest, he scrolls through his contacts. Sibylla? Absolutely not; he wouldn’t want her troubling herself with something this stupid. He has Ms. Hawthorne’s number, but that thought is shooed away quickly. He could call Will… No. Will would  _ never _ let him live this down.

He gets to the bottom of his list and pauses. Winifred Matthews, Winnie for short. She knows her way around this school, and—much to his benefit—seems to have a high interest in him. That could work.

Thanatos enters a simple  _ “hello.” _ into their text log, short as it is, and waits. A beat.  _ “please call.” _ he adds.

Another moment, then another, and just when he’s sighed and started begrudgingly texting his sister instead, his phone buzzes so hard and loud it nearly makes him drop it. Ah, there she is. He hits the little green button on his screen.

“Hello?” he starts. “Thanatos Briar spea-“

“Mr. Briar! Are you alright? Is there anything I can do for you?” Winnie rushes her words, and Thanatos finds himself wincing. She gasps, and, from what must be under her hand, she continues, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I cut you off, didn’t I?”

“It’s alright, Ms. Matthews. But if you would, please do calm down.”

“Right, sorry.”

“Apologies aren’t necessary,” he reassures. Thanatos holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder and wraps his arms around his knees. “I do, however, need your assistance.”

“Oh, yes! Anything!” She squeaks in realization and quiets down. “I mean, um, what is it, sir?”

Thanatos sighs through his nose. It’s almost endearing, the way she speaks. “Sir also isn’t necessary. Ato is fine.”

“A-Ato.”

“Yes?”

“No, sorry, I was just repeating it back. Um… uh… what was it you needed? My bad, I keep interrupting you. And apologizing.”

“It seems…” he starts, and his voice grows hesitant. “…that I’m lost. I’ve found myself in the primary school building-“  _ Because I’m a coward _ . “-to investigate, and it’s difficult to navigate.”

Winnie pauses from the other end of the line, and the burning of Thanatos’ ears is back and with a vengeance. It spreads to his cheeks. He can feel the way his brows are scrunching outside of his control. She has the  _ gall _ to giggle and snort, and the distance tells him she’s trying so hard not to to the point of holding her phone away from her face. There’s the sound of shuffling then a door shutting.

“ _ Ms. Matthews, _ ” he chides.

“Sorry, sorry! Ah, I mean- No, um… Ato?”

“Yes, Ms. Matthews.” Don’t say it. Don’t you dare.

“Could it be…”

No.

“…you have a bad sense of direction?”

Thanatos could say he’s hit the end call button this fast without thinking before, but he’d be an outright liar. He drops his phone next to him and stares dead ahead at the other wall. This is fine. He can just ask the headmaster to move him to another room, and he can ignore everyone he’s met thus far. Maybe he can pretend to arrive for the first time tomorrow. Yes, that sounds nice.

His phone buzzes once, twice, three times before he finally retrieves it slowly. The screen is filled with texts from Ms. Matthews, all apologizing and filled with those cute little Japanese face emojis his sister is so fond of. Thanatos sighs and discards it again, preferring to wallow for a short while.

That is, he’d wallow if it were  _ silent _ , but the sound of footsteps rushing toward him snaps him to attention. There’s only a phone light and passing lights from classrooms still waiting to be cleaned, but there’s no mistaking that short stature and choppy black hair.

“Ato! Are you there?!” Winnie yells, and Thanatos pulls himself to his feet.

“That was awfully quick,” he says, only slightly surprised.

Winnie skids to a halt in front of him and bends over, free hand on her knee while she pants hard. The smaller the body, the smaller the lungs.

“I- You said you- You were lost!” Her words are broken by laboured breaths. “And when you hung up, I got worried!”

Guilt isn’t a feeling he feels often, usually by choice, but it whispers so lightly in the back of his mind. She’s even out of uniform in what must be her lounge clothes: an extremely oversized sweater, colourful sleep shorts, and socks with flats. It’s quite the contrast to the black, white, and greys of Waurelt’s assigned wear.

“My apologies,” he says softly. “It was never my intent, but that’s beside the point. However, now that I have you here, could I ask another favour?”

Winnie perks up like spring daisies. “Yes, of course!” He motions her to walk with him as he moves down the hall.

“A few questions answered is all I need. Some may be personal.”

“That’s fine! Ask away, Ato.”

Thanatos nods. “What year are you in, Ms. Matthews?”

“My thirteenth year, sir.” She presses her fingers together, fidgeting. “Here, we run in our twelfth year at the end of the semester and take up the position at the start of our thirteenth year.”

“That makes you…?”

“Seventeen, sir.”

Thanatos is jotting this all into his phone, and Winnie takes a peek but backs away at a side-eyed questioning glance from Thanatos. She messes with her hair.  _ She can’t stop moving _ , he writes.

“And as Student Council Secretary, do you have a lot of interaction with the student body?” he asks as he’s pulled by the sleeve into a different direction. “Ah, thank you,” he says softly.

“Well… I’d say so,” Winnie admits, and her face drops into something bittersweet “Interacting with people is part of my job description. After all, everything goes through me before it goes to Rebecca or anyone else on the council.” She sighs.

“So, if I showed you photos of students, would you have a decent idea of who they are?”

“Yes? I could at least find out if I don’t, anyways.”

Thanatos hums and continues typing. “And staff?”

Winnie falls quieter, and she swallows. Thanatos’ eyes narrow on the way she hugs herself. It’s the first time her hands have stopped moving since she got here.

“…Ms. Matthews?” he tries again.

She clears her throat. “Oh, um, yes, staff included. We have bi-weekly meetings with the education staff, so we’re fairly familiar with most of them.”

“And the next meeting is?”

“Um… this coming Sunday… two days from now.”

Thanatos puts his phone to sleep and tucks it away. “That’s enough for now.” He pauses. “Well, save for one final request.” Winnie bats her eyelashes up at him, head tilting and brows furrowed. “Please take me to the student council office.”

It’s an easy enough thing to do, and it doesn’t take them long to get there. The student council office itself is the size of a classroom, but it’s decorated for and dedicated to the prestigious students of the student council. There’s lush, velvety couches and a lavish white coffee table. Several desks line the walls, but right in front of the blackboard is the largest, nicest desk of them all. In a nameplate on its surface, Rebecca’s name is engraved in gold plated metal.

Thanatos makes a face of disgust as he inspects the room. “How… frivolous.” He opens the mini fridge filled to the brim with expensive spring waters and gourmet snacks.

“Oh, um-“ Winnie stutters and rushes to shut the fridge door. “S-Sorry, but those are for the council only. Not even class reps are allowed in there.”

“Are they purchased by the members?”

“No, they’re uh… supplied by the headmaster.”

Thanatos squints. “That’s absurd.”

Winnie kicks at the floor. “Mhm,” she agrees. “Ato, was there something in particular you needed? It’s already dark outside…”

He sighs and moves to Rebecca’s desk, and he traces his fingers along the white-painted wood. Inspecting them, they come up completely clean. Of course. “You said elections are held the year prior, but have there ever been exceptions?” He starts pulling at the drawers, finding them locked, but he pulls two bobby pins from under the back side of his hair, right above his nape, and gets to work. “It’s for the investigation.”

Winnie opens her mouth to comment, but she settles instead to watch him from older his shoulder. “Yes, sometimes, such as if a student transfers schools or faces disciplinary action. There have been some who couldn’t keep up with the pressure, so their grades dropped too low, and they got kicked out.”

“I see…” The lock clicks open, and the drawer gets pulled out to reveal its contents. Thanatos repeats this one, two more times for each drawer. “From what my sister has told me, it’s mostly a popularity contest in schools.”

“Basically.”

“Then how did you get the position?” he presses without hesitation, and he knows he’s hit the right button when she stops breathing. He looks up, but she refuses to meet her gaze.

“I… That’s…”

“No matter. Ignore it for now.” Yes… he’ll definitely come back to this. He knows now isn’t the time. He plasters on his trademark smile, and lets his brows furrow upward. Perfect concern. “My apologies, Winnie. Sometimes I get ahead of myself.”

Winnie relaxes as soon as her name spills from his lips, and she smiles back. “It’s okay! You’re just not the first to ask.”

With all three drawers open, Thanatos begins filing through their contents. The long, desk-wide top drawer is just some stationery and office supplies, standard stuff for a work desk. The second drawer on the side is records and files on the current student council and class representatives, and Thanatos takes pictures of the contents of the main council’s before returning them as they were. The last drawer, however, is perhaps the more interesting of the three.

“Ms. Hawthorne, you shouldn’t have,” he mutters to himself, smirking. Its contents are quite private, including the little book he flips through.

“What is it?”

“Nothing important,” he says. “Did Ms. Hawthorne stop by here before dinner?”

“She does every single day after classes, even if it’s only for a few minutes…”

Thanatos nods and hums in acknowledgement. He tucks the planner into his inner coat pocket while snapping a picture of the rest of the drawer’s contents. Winnie makes no comment or protest, only turning around to avoid watching the rest of this transaction.

“Plausible deniability, Ms. Matthews?” he asks, half-joking.

“Something like that.”

Winnie, he decides, gets more interesting with every interaction. He’ll have to keep an eye on her, especially during this investigation. The more tools he has, the better.

Thanatos shuts the locks the drawers back into place. “Let’s go. I should return to the dorms, as should you.” Passing her, he offers a wink and another smile. “We wouldn’t want rumours to start.”

Winnie nods hastily, face beet red as she takes the lead.

“You’re back super late, dude! I was worried when you ran off like that!” Jonny exclaims before Thanatos can even shut the dorm room door. He stares up, much to his chagrin, and feels his ears burning again.

“Leave it be,” he commands. “Now.”

“But-“

Thanatos pushes past him, bumping their shoulders, so he can take a seat at his desk. “It was a headache, nothing more.” The tension penetrated like acid, but Thanatos was an expert at ignoring it. He has to be.

Jonny clutches loosely at his shoulder, rubbing. “I’m sorry, Thanatos. For uh… for what happened at dinner. Eddie explained it to us.” God, he sounds like a kicked puppy. It makes Thanatos’ fists clench, and he shuts his laptop lid halfway through opening it. He spins in his chair.

“Explained what, exactly? Nothing happened, so I don’t  _ need _ your apologies or pity,” comes out meaner than he’d like. “Just shut up and do as you would; I have work.”

“It’s not pity!” Jonny insists. “I fucked up, so you deserve an apology.”

“You meant no harm.”

Jonny rolls his stupidly blue eyes, and he slams his hands on Thanatos’ desk. “But it still hurt you, right? Intention don’t-“

“Doesn’t.”

“Oh my  _ God, _ you get the point!” He leans in close, making Thanatos back away into his chair. “ _ I _ was the one who dragged you to that place, and you’re super new here, so it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re okay. Next time I mess up or do something stupid, just- I don’t know -hit me or something, okay?” Jonny holds his hand out in a fist.

Thanatos stares at it for several moments before turning away and covering his face with a hand while returning the fist bump gently with another. Jonny grins, and Thanatos carries the fist forward to hit Jonny in the cheek a little _ too _ hard. Whoops.

“Ow, shit!” Jonny falls back into his rear, hitting the floor. He cups his cheek. “What was that for?!”

“You said to hit you when you do something dumb. Your smile was dumb,” Thanatos explains. He wishes his skin would cool down. “Can you cook?”

Jonny blinks, leaning back on his hands. “No, not really. Can you?”

“Yes, but I’m busy. Order takeout and I’ll consider everything up to this point null and void. You’re paying.”

Jonny snorts before bursting out in full laughter, and he pushes himself up to his feet. “Chinese food fine?”

“If it’s edible, I don’t care, now hurry up,” Thanatos answers. A hand pats his head before Jonny moves into the kitchen, and he buries his face in his hands. It’s only a month, he reminds himself. It’s only for a month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! All FAQ stuff will be added down here as needed. If there are any question, comments, critiques, or concerns, feel free to comment below or email me at sunnytothed@gmail.com


	4. Case One - Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in school again, so illustrations are slow but coming! Until 2 and 3 get theirs, here's 4! Enjoy!

Beckoning Rebecca was, unfortunately, a necessary task, and at her suggestion, they agreed to meet at the library. Knowing better, Thanatos leaves fifteen minutes early, and after wandering the campus with a copy of the campus map in his hands, he finally finds the damn place just in time for their meeting. Rebecca is tapping her foot impatiently, standing in front of the door.

“What took you so long?” she asks with bite, and Thanatos raises a brow.

“I’m on time,” he replies.

Rebecca harrumphs and puts her hands on her hips, foot tapping faster. “On time is  _ late _ .”

Thanatos rolls his eyes and walks past her into the building. “Not according to the dictionary.”

She scoffs but follows suit, and they find a secluded table towards the back shelves. In all honesty, Thanatos is a little surprised that no one is making out like he’s seen in television and movies before, but the students sitting at tables they pass stare Rebecca (and by proxy, himself) down until they’re out of her vision, then which they return to their chatting and goofing off.

“Delinquents,” she grumbles.

“That’s mighty rude of you,” Thanatos quips, examining his gloved fingers. “But I’m not surprised in the slightest, the way you speak.”

“What do you-?”

“Nothing. Take a seat.” He does so himself, but Rebecca waits in front of the seat across from him, arms folded and staring expectantly. “What?” he asks, audibly disinterested.

“My seat,” she says. “It’s a gentleman’s responsibility, or have your parents not taught you manners yet?”

Thanatos grinds his teeth.  _ Ignore it _ . “Just sit down and pull out the files you took. I assume you have them?” She huffs and plants her rear in the chair, crosses her legs, and retrieves the manila files from beautifully embroidered messenger bag. The way her name is lavishly fixed in place reminds him of decorative hand towels.

“Of course I do!”

“Have you  _ looked _ at them?”

Rebecca huffs. “Yes, I did, thank you very  _ much _ . They’re student files, both girls, and both transferred out early this semester about a month apart.” She opens them and slides them forward. “Here.”

Thanatos nods. “What I’m going to say from here on out is never to leave your mouth without my consent, understand?”

“Then this needs to be more private,” Rebecca hesitantly agrees. With a snap of her fingers and muttering of words, a bubble forms around them before fading into invisibility.

He raises a brow and twirls his pen in his hand. “So, you’re an abjuritionist.”

Rebecca laughs pompously, hand in front of her face. “And an excellent one at that!” And his brow drops. She continues, “Learning both abjuration and conjuration is a Hawthorne family tradition and requirement.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” he dismisses. Thanatos completely shifts his attention to the student files and the other half that he took from Mrs. Waurelt’s desk. “These students are our victims.”

Rebecca stops laughing. “…what?”

“These girls, they’re our victims. Pay attention, Ms. Hawthorne,” he scolds coolly. “Dottie James, in the fall semester of her eleventh year, found deceased in August on the 25 th . The other was Kelcey Freeman, a twelfth year this year who was found deceased almost a month later on September 29 th .”

Thanatos pulls out the photos of the two former students and sets them apart from the files. Rebecca takes them both into her hands. “They look so similar… especially now that I see them like this.”

“Then it’s possible our culprit has a type,” Thanatos says, and Rebecca glares at him for it.

“Watch it,” she warns, but he shrugs in response.

“I’m merely stating a likely possibility. It’s common for serial murderers to have a type of target. This has been especially true for men.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“So it’s probably a man?”

“Well, it’s hard to say so soon,” he admits. His grimace grows deeper. “Mrs. Warelt had the bodies removed before anyone could take photos of them in their time-of-crime placement, and on top of that, she refuses autopsies of both girls.”

Rebecca’s brows scrunch, and she sets the photos down. “Shouldn’t that be their parents’ decisions?” Her breath catches. “No… Wait… Neither of them have living relatives. Regardless, I’m sure Mrs. Waurelt has a reason; she always does.”

Thanatos clicks his pen and scribbles into his notebook. “It’s called saving face, Ms. Hawthorne, something you and your family should know well about.” He carries on before she can do it for him. “Both girls have ginger hair, blue-green eyes, and rather slim figures, and such specifics point towards purpose rather than coincidence, but there’s no certainty without a third test.”

“You can’t  _ possibly _ mean-“

“We need to find similar candidates, keep an eye on them, and wait for results. If our next victim isn’t among them, we change our focus.” Thanatos stands and puts his notebook back into his bag. “Look into it for me, Ms. Hawthorne.”

Rebecca slams the desk with her hands, and she visibly restrains herself from launching across the table to strangle him. Thanatos pauses only out of courtesy, but his gaze is nowhere near interested.

“Next _ victim _ ?! What the  _ hell _ is wrong with you?!” she exclaims, face going red. “No one else can die; you’re here to  _ stop _ that!”

“Ms. Hawthorne,” he starts. She only glares harder. “Take a seat. Even with the silencing bubble spell, you’re still causing quite the scene.”

Blushing harder, she slowly sinks into her chair. “This is the  _ worst _ . I’m only a student; why am I subjected to all of this? I don’t need  _ this _ .”

“Unfortunately, neither of us have a choice in the matter.” He adjusts his sleeves. “But what would your poor, dearest headmaster think of you if she heard you whining like a wee little _ baby _ after all the promises you made to her face?”

Rebecca shoots back up, grabs her things, and grits her teeth. She looks him right in the eye, but the tears that prick in hers don’t hurt him at all.

“ _ Fuck you _ .” She slams the chair back into place and runs away, dismissing the bubble as she goes. 

Thanatos watches her go with a glint in his eye. With a sigh, he too leaves the quiet confines of the large library.  _ Well _ , he thinks,  _ perhaps that will finally put some fuel in her motor. _

By the time Jonny comes back from doing whatever Jonny does, Thanatos has cleaned their dorm near spotless. Jonny’s laundry is in the previously unused, incredibly sad hamper, and trash now knows it’s home is in the garbage bin. Pausing to take a sip of his coffee, Thanatos sets aside the broom in his hand.

“Holy shit, you didn’t have to do all this, dude,” Jonny says in awe, shutting the door. “I was gonna do it tonight.”

Thanatos shakes his head and gets back to sweeping. “Cleaning helps me think; pay it no mind.”

“Thinkin’ about the case?”

He sighs. “Everyone’s beloved headmaster is hiding more than I’d care for her to. It’s infuriating.”

Jonny kicks off his shoes and crawls up onto his bed. He lays on his stomach and rests his chin on his arms while his feet kick the air lightly behind him. “Did people really die here?”

“Two girls, both minors, both similar in appearance and personality.” He pauses, and he hastens to give Jonny the files. “Do you recognize either of them?”

Jonny shifts into criss-cross with the files in his lap. At the first, he shakes his head, but his expression is all the more concerned. “I dunno about Dottie, but…” He drags a hand down his face. “Kelcey and I were in some of the same classes—her being an honours student and all—and we’d hang out sometimes. It wasn’t enough to call us, like,  _ close _ , so I wasn’t surprised when I got told she transferred, and she didn’t tell me about it first.”

Thanatos puts the broom away after dumping the remnants of his work into the bin. He sits at his own desk, furiously typing away Jonny’s every word. “Continue, if you would.”

“Uh, right… her transferring though  _ was _ a shocker since she had been so excited to run for student council and join all these junior and senior exclusive clubs.” Jonny holds up the picture, and his face grows so sullen. “She had a smile like the brightest stars in the sky; I wanted to ask her out so  _ bad _ .” He laughs a little. “She was acting  _ super _ weird towards the end of August, though, and she started ditching us to go to tutoring sessions.”

Thanatos pauses, frowning. “Interesting… Do you know with whom?”

Jonny shakes his head, and he puts the picture back into Kelcey’s file. Thanatos takes the files when offered. This roommate problem might not be such a problem after all, so giving it a pause of thought, Thanatos presses his luck.

“Jonny, would you like to assist on the case? The more help, the better,” he asks, putting on his subtle smile. Jonny blinks at him, looking down from his bed with interest. “It’d be useful to have a man like you on the inside; socializing isn’t precisely my strong suit.”

He grins in return and gives a thumbs up. “Yeah, I’d love to help! Just tell me what to do and where to go, and I’ll give it all I’ve got.”

Thanatos’ smile becomes a little wider, a little more genuine, and he turns back to his computer screen. “Thank you. For now, asking around about those two students is enough. If you can find out who was giving those tutoring sessions, that’d be incredible.”

“Leave it to me, partner!” Jonny slams his hand on his fist, and even if it’s just from the corner of his eye, Thanatos can almost  _ see  _ the wires in Jonny’s brain change outlets. “Oh, speaking of, do you have one?”

His smile morphs into a pressed line, and he huffs. “Why, pray tell, is this relevant? Could it be you have a fetish for digging into peoples’ personal lives.” With the utmost sarcasm, he finally looks at Jonny. “Or  _ maybe _ you’re  _ interested _ in me, hm?” As if.

It’s Jonny’s turn, for once, to blush rose red, and he shakes his head. “No way, dude, nothing like that!” He waves his hands quickly. “It’s just… you’re here for a while right, so you’ve gotta have people that miss you, yeah? If you have a special someone, I just wanted to say they’re free to say hi so you’re not as lonely…”

“Well… that’s awfully kind of you.”

Jonny perks up. “So you do?”

“No, not at all.” Thanatos doesn’t hesitate to answer with his usual bluntness.

It’s not only that he doesn’t have one now; he’s never had a real date in his life. To be fair, he’s only nineteen, and he knows that he has plenty of time. If anything, he prefers it this way! His sister comes first, as does his work, and he doesn’t have time for real dating.

Jonny boos and falls onto his back, stretching. “I’ll keep my eye out for you then! Cos, y’know, that’s what friends are for.”

“Do you know what friends are also for?” Thanatos asks, determined to change the subject.

“What?”

“Doing their laundry so I can no longer smell their disgusting gym socks.”

Jonny groans and crawls down from his bed, and he pulls himself to his hamper. “Yeah, yeah, yes  _ sir. _ ” He drags it out of their room and closes the door quietly.

As this happens, Thanatos looks back at his notes. Why, pray tell, would an  _ honours _ student need tutoring? Sure, there’s the safety net of having help, but judging by Kelcey Freeman’s grades, attendance, and personal evaluations, it doesn’t particularly click. 

The  _ worst _ part about this is how it ties to necromancy! If innocent girls getting killed off by some gross, horny teacher or whatever all this is, they don’t need  _ him _ to solve it. If Waurelt didn’t have that damn contract, he’d tell her so straight to her face… again. He’ll have to get it out of her the hard way.

Picking up his phone, he swallows down his pride, and calls Rebecca. It takes two tries, but she finally picks up with a begrudging, “ _ What? _ ”

“I need to tell you something important.”

“An apology as is so rightly deserved?” she asks, cocky.

“No.”

The end of call tone rings in his ear, and his sister would call it karma. He calls back, and Rebecca picks up again.

“Do you want your school to be safe or not?” he opens. “Because, as much as it pains me, I can’t get any further without you.”

“Not an ‘I’m sorry’, but I’ll take it. What is it you need so  _ desperately _ from me?” Rebecca’s words pull at his stomach in all the wrong ways. “I thought I was too incompetent!”

Thanatos pulls at his hair. “Your incompetency has nothing to do with the benefits of your position. Clearly, as Mrs. Waurelt’s prized student, you have  _ ways _ with her, yes? Use that to get what we need.”

Rebecca hums, and he can hear her exhale heavily through her nose. “If you’re implying I can  _ abuse _ my favour as student council president, then I’ll hang up again and report you to Mrs. Waurelt-“

“No!” he exclaims much too loudly, much too quickly for his own comfort. He swallows the vicious lump in his throat. “No, nevermind it. I’ll just get it myself.”

There’s a small pause as Thanatos goes to hang up, but Rebecca halts him. “Wait,” she says. “This’ll help all of this go faster?”

“It should.”

“And that means you’ll leave sooner?”

“Hopefully so.”

Rebecca laughs haughtily, muffled only slightly by the turning of her head. “Fine then! It’s the crime scene photos, right? The ones you mentioned this morning.”

“I’m _ shocked _ you recall,” he says sarcastically, and she scoffs.

“Watch me, Mr. Briar; I’ll have more information than you could ever hope to find, and you’ll be on your knees thanking me for my service. Maybe now you’ll learn not to be so  _ difficult _ .” She hangs up for the final time, and Thanatos breathes a heavy sigh of relief. His head thumps onto the surface of his desk.

“Fuck me, indeed.”


	5. Case One - Chapter Five

Correlations Thanatos has noticed the more he’s stared at these files in the dead of night:

First, the dates are purposeful. It’s been the last Friday of the past two months, and that further urges him towards the specifics of these murders being by no means a coincidence.

Second, both girls are honours students, and neither have had slipping grades for their duration of education at Waurelt’s.

Finally, if the perpetrator has a fetish for school girls in uniforms, it wouldn’t surprise him what-so-ever. It hasn’t before, and it wouldn’t now.

He finally forces himself to sleep as the sun is rising, but it’s not for very long. Sunday, he reminds himself. Picking up his phone, he calls Winnie from the comfort of his sheets.

“Meeting day,” he slurs drowsily.

“P-pardon?” she asks quietly. He can hear the tap of her shoes against tile. “Meeting… Oh! Yes, the student council meeting. What about it?”

“I want in on it.” And to do so, he’ll need to get dressed. “Uniforms?”

“Wait, no- I mean yes, we wear our uniforms! B-But you can’t just barge in on a student council meeting!” She panics, and he inhales deeply.

Thanatos tries his best voice of puppy-dog disappointment; his mother would be proud. “So… there’s no way? Truly?”

Winnie makes a whining noise in the back of her throat and stops walking. “Well, it’s not like we’re doing anything  _ private _ , per say. If you sit in as my guest, then it might be okay.”

“Perfect. It’s sincerely appreciated, Ms. Matthews. What time’s the meeting?”

“Um… in half an hour.” Well, shit. Winnie giggles. “I’ll meet you at the boys’ dorm entrance and lead the way. See you in a bit!”

Thanatos tosses his phone aside to get dressed, but the uniform he was given is awfully  _ complex _ in its assembly. Layers upon layers and snaps in weird places; how does Sibylla  _ do _ any of this? For something so vintage in aesthetic and simple at first glance, it takes practice.

Jonny stirs from his own bed, and he rubs his eyes as he yawns. “Whatcha doin’?” he asks. Thanatos is struggling with the waistcoat and all of its buttons. Jonny snickers and climbs down. “Better question is where’re you going dressed like that? It’s Sunday.”

Thanatos huffs. “Student Council meeting. I need to get an eye of the staff; I can ask around about who may be the newest.” Looking down, he pulls away his hands as Jonny takes over buttoning him up. He frowns. “I can do it.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Newest teacher?”

“The murders just started this semester, so if anyone is relatively new to the staff, it might be a good place to start,” he explains. “Both victims were especially smart girls, so it’s hard to imagine they’d be fooled so easily unless it was someone they trusted.”

Jonny grimaces, finishes, and grabs the ascot next. “Yikes… that’s just…  _ yikes _ .” He shakes his head. “That’s awful. How’d they, uh, die?”

Thanatos watches Jonny’s fingers the entire time. He swallows. “It’s not included in the files I was given, so I’m having Ms. Hawthorne follow up on it. All I was told is necromancy was involved, so a few…” He pauses to think. “…theories, yes, are in place.”

The shoes are next, and Jonny kneels to slip them on his feet and tie the laces. Thanatos holds his arms behind his back and looks away. “Like?”

Thanatos brings his boot up and presses it into Jonny’s face, pushing him away. He glares downward coldly. “Like it’s none of your business. Don’t get involved with necromancy.” The words are like venom, and Jonny’s eyes fall, and his mouth presses into a line.

“But… looking at Kelcey’s picture…” Jonny starts slowly, taking hold of Thanatos’ foot and lowering it gently. He keeps his hands on his knees then. “I dunno… I don’t think  _ she _ knew what was happening to her.” Thanatos softens into something  _ akin _ to concern.

Intuition is a vital component to survival let alone detective work, and it plays a massive part in magic. Sometimes it’s just a feeling, other times it’s the world trying to speak truth otherwise too quiet to hear. Will often calls it ‘following his gut’, and while Thanatos only believes that true after a trip to some burger joint, the sentiment is the same. Schools like Divination or Evocation rely heavily on intuition to guide them the right way.

Thanatos sees the way Jonny’s hands are shaking, and his eyes are staring at the leather of his shoe like the answer is there. Thanatos squints.

“How certain are you of this?” He grabs the photo from his desk and hands it to Jonny. “Look her in the eye and tell me.”

Tears come to Jonny’s eyes, and he nods. “Certain. She would’ve said something,  _ done _ something! Kel was one of the smartest people I knew.” Jonny laughs and wipes at his eyes with the hem of his t-shirt. “Sorry, ‘m tired.”

“I pay it no mind. Go back to sleep; I can finish from here.” He kneels and hands Jonny a tissue from his desk in exchange for the photograph. Jonny blows his nose into it. “My apologies for waking you. That’s enough.”

Thanatos buckles the other boot, pins the jewel to the top of the ascot, and wraps the two extra belts around his waist. From there, it’s only the overcoat and its many chains and buttons. He hasn’t worn this much white and silver in quite a long time.

He grabs his essentials: his notebook and pen, his phone, etc. There’s not much he’ll need for this, but he makes certain to tuck Rebecca’s planner neatly into his messenger bag. Packed, he moves past a still-kneeling Jonny, and in a moment of pause, he hesitantly pats Jonny’s shoulder.

“You should meet with my sister,” he says softly, no ice. “I’d like both you and Hawthorne to do so today.” And before Jonny can get a word in, he exits their deathly silent dorm.

Winnie did lead him as promised, and the air of pretentiousness only  _ increases _ with the presence of fully uniformed rich children and equally nice looking, church-ready teachers lounging in the decorated student council room. They sip their expensive waters and bite their tea cakes. The brief thought of convincing Sibylla to run crosses his mind, but self-disgust kicks it out quickly.

When Winnie makes a curtsey and announcement of her presence to everyone else, the occupants shift their eyes onto Thanatos. Rebecca’s own narrows into a hard, territorial glare.

“Mr. Briar, what a surprise!” she exclaims, turning her frown upside down faster than one could blink. “You’re even in uniform.”

“I was interested in the process the student council follows,” he says, smiling back. “My sister is interested in running, and considering the reputation of this year’s council, I wanted to take notes for her.”

“She was free to come herself.”

Thanatos shakes her head. “She has quite a hard time getting around, so it’s easiest this way.”

Winnie raises a hand. “I talked with Ato- er, Mr. Briar about it, and he’ll be here as my guest, so I promise to take responsibility for him.”

Rebecca softens at Winnie’s shy voice, and her smile almost becomes genuine. She sighs and nods, taking a seat at her desk. “Very well, it’s fine for now, but please  _ refrain _ from speaking, Mr. Briar.” Well, this’ll truly be heaven for her. “I can answer all your questions personally when we’re through.”

“Hold on one moment, Ms. Hawthorne,” says a teacher. He’s a young man with short, dark hair and the kindest green eyes. “Briar as in  _ Thanatos _ Briar?”

Thanatos nods and bows. “The one and only,” he says. The other teachers begin to whisper amongst each other, but this one moves forward to shake his hand. Thanatos obliges.

“Ecker Thompson. It’s truly an honour; your recent solve was quite fantastic to read about.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I heard the police had almost given up on finding those children before you showed up.”

Ah, right, the kidnapping case.

“I appreciate the awe, Mr. Thompson, but the media exaggerates. We had such little information, and…” Thanatos covers his mouth with his hand and bows his head. “We didn’t make it in time for all of them, but without the help of Detective Grant, the other two would have followed suit. Truly, they deserve more credit than I.”

Ecker places a hand on Thanatos’ shoulder. “You did what you could.”

“Indeed,” speaks up a female instructor. “Remarkable.”

“Now, now,” Rebecca laughs softly. “Overwhelming him with praise will only make his head swell, don’t you think? It’s about time we start, anyway. Everyone take a seat.”


	6. Case One - Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The goodest girl is here!!! She's here!!! Outta the way, Thanatos, the nicer sibling is here!!!

In all honesty, Jonny is just happy to be included. Thanatos relying on him, asking him to take care of something as important as checking on his sister must be a step in the right direction. Besides, if Toasty says it’ll be useful, then Jonny believes him.

Rebecca, on the other hand, looks about as pleased as a cornered bear. He steals quick, not-so-subtle glances at her as they walk down the halls of the girl’s dormitory building. She catches him, glaring, and he resolves to keep his eyes ahead of him from there.

Eventually, they reach the fourth floor—the lower the year, the higher the floor—and knock on room 402. The chatting behind it shushes, and a girly voice asks them to wait. The door’s quickly pulled open, and a bright, red-headed young lady in her t-shirt and shorts loungewear combo grins up at both of them. Both of their jaws drop, and they share a brief, concerned glance.

“Hey! Come in, come in,” she says with nothing short of joy, so Jonny and Rebecca do as asked. “It’s not every day the president comes to pay a visit, right? What can we do for you?”

Jonny smiles back just as wide, and he scratches the back of his neck. “Right, well, uh… you wouldn’t happen to be Sibylla Briar, would you?” he asks. She busts out laughing.

“Me? No, no, no way. Sib’s over there.” She points.

Their eyes follow to view a young girl in a wheelchair, parked next to the couch, giggling at something funny on the television. In her hands is a strange but cute, patchworked stuffed creature. Now that Jonny looks at her, the resemblance is uncanny. Her hair isn’t as grey as her brothers—instead, it’s a warm black—but it has the same small waves, the same strand on top that doesn’t seem to stay down, and the same thickness. Her skin is also a tan olive tone, but her eyes are a pale greyish green. Sibylla is…  _ extremely _ pretty. He looks at Rebecca, who also seems a little entranced.

“I’m Angelica Waterson,” says the ginger, and their attention snaps to her. Angelica twirls the hairbrush in her hand. “Angie for short. I’m her roomie.”

“Ah, yes, right,” Rebecca responds, nodding. “Rebecca Hawthorne. It’s a pleasure.” She elbows Jonny, who yelps and nods as well.

“Yeah! I’m Jonny. Nice to meet ya!” He gives a wink and a salute, and Angie laughs. She ushers them in properly.

“Sib, you have visitors!”

Sibylla looks up, and a gentle smile graces her features. “I don’t receive many, but it’s nice every once in a while. Please, sit.” They do, and she fidgets with the doll. Angie resumes brushing Sibylla’s hair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well,” Rebecca starts, smiling back. “Your-“

“Your brother asked us to check on you!” Jonny chimes in excitedly. “Says you might be able to help.” He leans in and partially hides his mouth to whisper, “Plus, he’s super worried about you.”

Sibylla perks up almost immediately, but the pull of the brush in her hair forces her back. Angie snickers. “Sorry, sorry. How about I finish later and get tea instead, yeah?”

“Sure!” Sibylla nods in agreement. She twirls a front strand with her finger, humming in approval at its lack of tangles. “If I had known, I would’ve made more.” She claps her hands together. “But anyway, my brother!”

“Yes, he requested you use your divination skills to help with the case. Jonny?” Rebecca looks at him pointedly. “Did you bring the photos?”

“Sure did!”

“Great, then I’m going to help Angelica.” Rebecca rises and promptly shuffles to the other side of the room, to the nightstand in between the bed that sits the portable cooktop and cute, pink tea kettle.

Jonny, meanwhile, swallows and stares at Sibylla awkwardly. “Well,” he starts. “Guess it’s up to us!” He pulls the photos from his bag and hands them to Sibylla. She touches them, and her face quickly falls.

“These must be the victim’s of Ato’s case… They’re so young to have died so horribly.” Sibylla sighs. “By necromancy no less.”

He gawks. “How did you know that?”

“Those who specialize in divination tend to be incredibly empathic. Even just an image of a person can connect us to how they felt recently,” she explains. “Some have this ability innately, and most go into divination and such to perfect it.” A pause, and she barely hides a cunning smile with her hand. “That and my brother told me the gist of why Mrs. Waurelt hired him before he got here.”

A lightbulb dings in Jonny’s mind, and Sibylla watches as he sinks into the couch, sliding down. He breathes, deep, before he forces himself upright again. “Uh, so, what do you mean by ‘died horribly’, Sib?”

Sibylla resumes staring at the photos. “It’s a familiar death; I’m experienced with it more than I care to be. They were in incredible pain, but it was short.” She hands them back. “What do  _ you _ think?”

Tears prick at his eyes again. Sibylla wipes them away with her sleeve before Jonny can. “It’s okay,” she comforts softly. “They were crying too.”

* * *

Rebecca, hands behind her back, approaches Angie’s side. “So, Angelica… What year are you?”

“Tenth!” she responds. “Fourth floor, y’know?”

Rebecca winces internally; she knows that, and yet it completely slipped her mind. “Right, of course. It’s a shame we don’t have as many first years like you helping out around school. Your enthusiasm is contagious.”

Angie smiles wide, and her cheeks redden with blush. “Y’think so? I’ve been wanting to do more, but it’s hard to know where to start. Class reps already got picked, and there are just too many committees to choose from!”

Rebecca leans against one of the bedposts and tucks her hair behind her ear, and she follows through by pulling her ponytail over her shoulder. “Well, you could always join the Party Planning Committee! They work with the student council for every event on campus, and Lord knows we need more tenth years.”

“Party Planning Committee?” Angie pries, and Rebecca’s smile grows confident. She examines her fingernails.

“Yes, it’s exactly as it sounds. Right now, we’re in the process of preparing the Haunted Masquerade at the end of the month for Halloween. It’s an annual tradition.”

Angie beams, and it’s only amplified by the scream of the kettle. She hastily turns it off and gets to pouring. Rebecca notices how smoothly she works. “Oh, that sounds amazing!”

Rebecca takes the flower-decorated mug and sips. “So?”

“I’d more than love to, but Sibylla needs me. When I got the offer to live with her, I couldn’t say no.” Her fretting fingers tap against the countertop rhythmically.

“Is there no one else who can take care of her?”

“There  _ is _ Marshall, an upperclassman from the boys’ dorm, who comes by a lot to help her study.”

“Then I’m sure she’ll be fine. You won’t be out past curfew, if it helps.”

Angie ponders it over another moment, glancing at Sibylla and Jonny. She sighs and smiles. “Alright, sure!” Like sunshine again, she retrieves her phone and hands it to Rebecca. “Just let me know what you need!”

Rebecca pulls out her phone, and they quickly swap information.  _ Well _ , she thinks.  _ This certainly killed two birds with one stone _ . It’s three if you count the tea; she needed a good cup after everything today. Nothing beats a good chamomile.

“Thank you, Angelica. It means more than I can say! All the new students prefer to hide out in their rooms, so it makes putting things together awfully difficult,” Rebecca says, smiling. Angie waves a hand in dismissal.

“It’s no biggie. All I have besides class and homework is my tutoring sessions, and they’re only an hour-ish long, so I have a lot of free time.”

Angie puts the other two mugs on a tray, and she hoists it up on one hand. Thanks to the short sleeves of her t-shirt, Rebecca can see how lean yet strong she is. She’s almost like a model.

Rebecca follows her back to the couch.

Sibylla moves her little stuffed friend’s arms. “If you can get a hold of any of their personal belongings, it’d be a lot easier to get a glimpse of their lives,” she explains. “The longer the attachment, the better.”

Jonny nods, getting out the last of his sniffles. “Yeah… Yeah, I’ll ask Toasty about it. Is there really nothing else you can tell me now, though?”

She shakes her head. “I’m afraid not.” Pausing, her eyes stare at her doll in concentration. “I’d prefer not to text him since you never know who could be watching, so tell him this, okay?” Jonny nods, and she lets out a long exhale. “To know the answer, watch your back.”

Jonny snorts. “That’s  _ super _ cryptic, Sib.”

“It sure is!” Angie hands Sibylla and Jonny their respective cups of tea. “But then again, almost all of Angie’s readings are pretty vague.” Rebecca takes a seat on the couch next to Jonny; she crosses her legs and sips with a perfectly straight back.

“Accuracy is hard! The future is never set in stone,” Sib retorts. She huffs. “As if it even exists yet, we can’t know for sure what lies beyond past and present.”

Rebecca sighs. “That sounds like something  _ he’d _ say.”

“Careful,” Sibylla says. “Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.” And yet, despite the words, she has the kindest, fondest smile on her face. Jonny feels himself replicating it. “On the topic of readings, how about I tell a fortune before you both leave? Consider it a thank you for stopping by.”

Rebecca protests, “No, thank you. We should really-“

“Oh,  _ hell  _ yeah!” Jonny interrupts, getting excited. “Do you do, like, card stuff?”

“Do you mean  _ tarot _ ?” Rebecca corrects coolly. Her disdain is evident in her grimace.

“Yeah! That.”

Sibylla watches their exchange and chuckles. “Yes, sometimes, but I prefer crystals. They’re a little less restraining, plus they’re  _ much _ cheaper.”

She wheels over to her desk under her bed before rolling back with a small, pink vintage jewellery box. Opening it, she reveals 7 different crystals of different colours and types. Pointing to each one, she explains, “These ones are based on chakra points on the human body, and by using them this way, someone’s personal condition can be evaluated through ritual. I can see what they’re going through now and the solutions to those issues.”

“It’s honestly so cool to see,” Angie brags. “Sib’s really,  _ really _ good at it”

“Then fortune tell away, dude!” Jonny pats Sib’s shoulder a few times before putting both his hands on his knees and waiting patiently. Rebecca watches from the corner of her eye.

Sibylla leans and places the box on the coffee table. She laces her fingers together, as if in prayer, and takes a deep breath. “Right, then,” she begins, and the crystals begin to glow dimly. Angie rushes to turn off the lights and turn on their desk lamps to set the mood. “We’ll need to align them to you, Jonny.”

One by one, each crystal rises from the box in rainbow order, and they float their way over to Jonny, bouncing with an audible chime, before circling Sibylla and repeating the motion. She smiles and nods in approval. They orbit her slowly, ringing gently with each hop, until the red one stops in front of her. It continues chiming as it glows brighter than the rest, and the others still save for rippling with its ever bounce. They sound like a tambourine complimenting the ding of a music box note.

“The Root, red, garnet,” Sibylla says clearly, and Jonny watches the way her eyes change to match the crystal. “It represents security, grounding, and instincts. You keep the people around you grounded to reality, but don’t forget about yourself. In times ahead, you must stay strong so that you can save your friends from a terrible threat.”

Jonny opens his mouth to speak, but Angie puts a finger to her lips in a silent shushing. He does as told.

The garnet crystal settles, and the cycle continues with the orange crystal. “The Sacral, orange, citrine. Here, we see our relationship with sexuality and emotion. You are…” She giggles. “Quite in touch with how you feel, and that’s more than most can say. However, you  _ need _ to delve deeper and strengthen the bonds you have with those around you.”

The orange crystal makes way for the yellow.

“The Solar Plexus, yellow, topaz. Confidence and self-worth.” Her entire face brightens, and the gem almost seems to bounce with  _ enthusiasm _ . “You… struggle with this, and you know it. In time, you’ll come to understand not only who you are and what you wish to do but also how much potential you have.”

Green is next.

“The Heart, green, jade. This is for love, hope, and balance.” Sibylla’s cheeks grow bright red, and she almost seems to short-circuit. “W-Well, this is a tricky one, but it’s nothing bad, I promise…”

“What’s wrong?” Jonny asks in a whisper. “Is it embarrassing?”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s just… Though things may get dire, never give up; it’s one of your talents. You have already met who you are destined for, but what comes of it is up to you. Keep putting the effort in, and everything will turn out fine.”

_ Well _ , Jonny thinks.  _ I did talk to a lot of cute girls today! _

Sibylla continues, and the blue gem follows suit.

“The Throat, blue, azurite. Communication and healing, now. You already speak your mind frequently,” she says, chuckling. “Sometimes, though, I’d watch your timing and tone. Your words have incredible weight to many, and they can do both extreme good  _ and _ extreme harm.”

Jonny nods along, and he has to restrain himself from poking the indigo gem that takes the blue one’s place. “Guilty as charged!” Rebecca rolls her eyes.

“Next is The Third Eye, indigo, lapis lazuli. Here’s our intuition and insight, the  _ truth _ .” She takes a deep breath. “You’re not the brightest colour in the crayon box sometimes, but you’re quick and intuitive. The truth you look for is far but not unreachable. Just think and work outside the box you’re currently in.”

Jonny makes a face that ponders if he should be pleased or insulted, but there’s not any time to think on it now. The gems finally reach their ending with violet, but the air quickly shifts, and Jonny gets a shiver down his spine. Rebecca faces Sibylla completely, pausing mid-sip, and her free hand begins reaching to her boot.

Sibylla’s eyes glaze over as she continues, “The Crown, violet, amethyst. Absolute enlightenment. You-“ Her voice cuts out, but her lips keep moving. Like this, she continues, and the crystal begins to vibrate violently. It chimes rapidly, creating a lullaby with its tune, and all he and Rebecca can do is stare in concern and awe.

Jonny reaches to grab Sibylla’s shoulder and shake her out of it, but as contact is made, the other crystals lose their glow and drop to the floor. The amethyst launches itself past Jonny’s head and embeds itself into a pillow Angie rushes to put in its way.

Sibylla’s hands fall into her lap, but it’s only a beat before she covers her face with them and lets loose a shaky sigh. “I- I’m-“ Jonny squeezes gently.

“It’s okay… It’s okay.”

Rebecca rises from her seat, discarding her cup to the coffee table, and she leaves without another word. Angie reaches out, asks her what’s wrong, but she flinches at the door  _ slamming _ shut.

Jonny touches the sharp cut on his cheek, and he examines the faint trace of blood on his fingers. “What… happened?” Angie conjures a bandage and places it on his face. He thanks her with a nod before returning his attention.

“The last one…” Sibylla starts. “Revealing one’s highest state is taboo. The spell prevents me from doing so by… well, you saw. I never remember what I say, either.”

“If you can’t use the purple one, then why do you even have it?” he asks.

“One needs all of them in order to perform the ritual,” she explains.

Angie kneels to collect them for her, and she carefully puts each one in the box. The amethyst made a small hole in her pillow, but she appears to pay it no mind as she drops that one in last. When Jonny gets a look at the pillow, it has three more tiny holes of similar sizes.

Jonny pats Sibylla’s head. “I’m sure there’s a way to fix it! After all, Rebecca’s gotta have her turn, too.” He grins at her like sunshine, and she can’t help herself but to relax.

There’s a chime again, and everyone’s attention directs to the box of gems. Though Angie had closed it, the chime is crystal clear, and Jonny—with Sibylla’s nod of approval—reopens the container. They all lean forward in anticipation.

The citrine is glowing again, and it slowly moves upward before bouncing merrily towards Jonny. It lands in his lap, chiming, and it dims. He attempts to put it back, but the crystal simply repeats itself. With each try, the gem gets more and more stubborn, and at some point, when Jonny pulls it away from his leg, the gem pulls  _ back _ .

“That’s never happened,” Sibylla says in awe. “You should keep it. It must’ve picked you for a reason.”

Jonny frantically waves his hands. “But I’d feel awful if I took your precious stone!” She smiles and shakes her head.

“It’s okay. I can get another one. Please, I insist.”

“Sib-“

Sibylla closes his hand around the citrine. “Just remember what I told you, and let the crystal do its job.” She winks at him. “Besides, I want to know what it’s thinking, so keep me updated, okay?”

He nods and stands, collecting his things. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m absolutely positive!” Sibylla looks to Angie, and Angie gives an exuberant two thumbs up.

He’s walked to the door by Angie, and she pats him on the back in a total bro fashion. He coughs. “It means you’ll have the chance to come back and see her,” she whispers before pushing him out the door. “See ya later!”

Jonny stares worriedly as the door is shut in his face, and he opens his palm to gaze at the still glowing citrine.


	7. Case One - Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first team meeting featuring special guest: worldbuilding? sure. this is a shorter chapter, but as they say, there's always a calm before the storm.

The knock at the window drags Thanatos out of his thoughts, and with a click of his pen, it unlocks. “Come in,” he calls, but it’s more irritated than he intends. That is, until he sees it’s Rebecca that flies inside on her decorated broomstick and lands delicately on the hardwood flooring.

She frowns at the state of his desk, scribbles on sticky notes tacked to all corners of his wall, and his cork-board is already getting full of photos. Rebecca squints at them. “You honestly suspect my student council?”

“It’d be foolish not to. You all have access to more records than the average students, and considering what I heard this morning, it’s quite a competitive scene, the council.” He doesn’t stop typing as he speaks. “I don’t think it’s you, if it makes you feel any better.”

Rebecca doesn’t know whether to feel relieved, offended, or both. “Of course I’m not a murderer!” she exclaims. “And neither are any of them!”

Thanatos sighs. “Ms. Hawthorne, if you came only to yell at me, kindly leave.”

She huffs and, with a wave of her hand, brings Jonny’s own desk chair to her. She sits, crosses her legs, and sets her bag in her lap. Retrieved from it is her phone, and she shows Thanatos the screen.

“Your sister’s roommate matches the other girls.” With a confident smile, she points to the contact information. “She’s officially on the Party Planning Committee as of about 15 minutes ago, when I submitted the paperwork.” He squints, was it really the afternoon already?

Thanatos scribbles the name down and tacks it to his board. “I really should’ve checked in with her sooner,” he mumbles. “Thank you for checking on her for me.” Before she can say anything, Thanatos quickly shakes his head and rubs at his temples. “Any luck with the headmaster?”

“Not yet. It’ll have to wait until Monday; the headmaster’s office is closed on weekends, and the email I sent hasn’t gotten a response.” Rebecca jumps at her phone buzzing. She huffs and rises, brushing her skirt as she approaches the door. Thanatos leans to watch.

Rebecca opens it and standing there, with his hands full of snacks and soda cans, is Jonny. He grins around the candy bar held between his teeth. He rushes to drop them on the coffee table. “So, good news and bad news!”

“What’s with the snacks?” Thanatos asks.

“Good news is Sibylla is a-okay, happy you’re here, and gave us some info.” Jonny tosses a soda can to Thanatos, who catches it with some ease. He grimaces at being ignored. Ah, well.

“And the bad news?”

Jonny tosses the second soda to Rebecca, who immediately checks the nutrition label. She ponders, then pops the tab open. “Is it the part where Briar’s sister almost killed you or the part where Briar kills you _now_ for gawking at her.”

“I didn’t _gawk_ — who even says that anymore? Anyway, no, she said something specific and had a message for you.” He points at Thanatos as the other cracks open his can. “She said, uh… ‘To know the answer, watch your back.’”

Thanatos and Rebecca share a confused look. “Is that all?” he presses. Jonny shakes his head. He sits on the arm of the couch.

“Definitely necromancy, and she said we should try to find things they’re attached to.”

Rebecca hums, “If the headmaster has this thing on lock-down, then could she also have their belongings? According to records, the girls moved out via the proper forms, so the rooms are definitely empty. In fact, I bet they’ve already been refilled by waitlistees by now.”

“Then add that to your to-do list for Monday,” Thanatos orders, and Rebecca grumbles behind her drink.

The trio waits in silence as thoughts run through their heads, but it’s Jonny who speaks up again first, startling himself with the memory. “Oh, yeah! She also said something about the death being familiar. Maybe it’s from a past case?”

Thanatos slowly sets his drink down on his desk, face progressively getting darker. He swallows and runs a hand through his hair. “Sometimes, really, I wish she’d just be blunt.”

Rebecca rolls her eyes. “That’s diviners for you.”

“Do you know what that means, Toasty?” Jonny’s head tilts like a confused puppy, brows furrowed with worry, hands fidgeting with a crinkly chip bag.

“I might, but that information Monday is absolutely crucial.” Scooting in his chair, Thanatos grabs a red marker from his desk’s pencil holder, and he starts crossing out several photos on the board. “Confirmed necromancy means we can eliminate suspects fast. The Laws of Auras come into obvious play.”

“Laws?” Jonny prods. Rebecca smirks and sits up in Jonny’s seat.

“The Laws of Auras encompass how we use magic, of course. You didn’t know that?” She scoffs. “How did you even get into this school at all.”

Jonny blushes bright red and stammers. “What? No, I know them! But a, uh, recap would be nice.”

“Honestly, you’re hopeless, Greenwell.” Rebecca sighs.

“Then pray tell, Ms. Hawthorne, do you know the Laws regarding necromancy?” Thanatos asks, exasperated.

At that, Rebecca’s confident smile falters, and she takes a sip. “Perhaps a recap _is_ in order.”

Thanatos clears his throat. “As you both know, the Laws of Auras are about magic auras, the things in humans that let us perform magic and controls how that magic operates.” He thinks for a moment. “Jonny, the small whiteboard on the refrigerator, if you would.”

Jonny runs and retrieves it as asked, and Thanatos pops the marker open with his teeth. Resuming his lecture, he draws a circle in the middle of the tablet-sized whiteboard.

“The power of one’s aura can be affected by genetics— it’s why families like Hawthorne’s are so particular about who their heirs marry —but the biggest factor is, ultimately, luck. You get what you get.” Around the circle, he writes the letters A, C, D, En, Ev, I, N, and T. “The schools of magic known currently are abjuration, conjuration, divination, enchantment, evocation, illusion, necromancy, and transmutation.”

“The stronger the aura, the stronger the magic, and those strengths can be innate or developed,” Rebecca continues for him. Jonny nods. “Children will show aptitudes for certain schools at young ages.”

“Correct,” says Thanatos. Rebecca smirks and brushes her hair behind her shoulder. “Dedicating to specific schools will make it harder to learn other schools as you get older and your aura evolves to suit those schools, so that’s why they wait until secondary school to start offering school-specific courses.”

“Makes sense, but what does this have to do with necromancy?”

Rebecca frowns. “Now that I think on it, they don’t say much about it in any auralogy classes besides ‘don’t.’”

Thanatos makes sure they can see the board as he circles the N and scribbles in the aura circle, making it black. “Necromancy’s first use automatically corrupts one’s aura. As it’s very nature defies the laws of the divine and the natural, it seals off any ability to use magics under those properties.” He crosses out the D, E, C, and A. “The others remain usable because, like necromancy, they have to do with the material or the person.”

“So, anyone who can use divination, evocation, conjuration, and abjuration can’t be our killer?” Jonny hums in thought. “So Rebecca and I couldn’t do it because of what we do normally.”

“The same could be said for most of the student council,” Rebecca chimes in. “You crossed out those two, but all save for Winifred use one or more of those schools regularly.”

“What does Ms. Matthews use?”

“Illusion and transmutation, to my knowledge.”

Thanatos sticks an orange tack in Winnie’s picture on the corkboard. “This explains a lot,” he mutters.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, Ms. Hawthorne.” Thanatos sets aside the whiteboard. “Speaking of the student council, the meeting this morning was enlightening. There were a few among the staff there that should be watched. The newer, like Mr. Thompson, the more suspicious. If at all possible, we should take this next week to just observe unless otherwise required and do our work in the background.”

“That’ll be hard considering—” Jonny gestures to all of Thanatos. “—you’re like a celebrity. Not sure how lowkey you can be.”

“Why do you think I said _we?_ No one knows I’m here on a case; as far as they’re concerned, the official story is I’m here, given the Academy’s reputation for quality education, studying for future casework.”

Rebecca points at him. “And study, you _will_. I don’t know what school you’re actually from, but we have standards here.”

Thanatos rolls his eyes. “I didn’t graduate university with a bachelor’s degree two years ago for you to lecture me on high school studying ethics.” Both Rebecca and Jonny stare at him in awe. He pulls out from his drawer, framed perfectly, his diploma. “Criminal Justice major.”

The other two come closer to observe it. “It’s the real thing,” Rebecca confirms with contempt. “And from an esteemed place like Garden Grove.”

Jonny squints. “With a minor in—”

Thanatos quickly covers the diploma and tucks it away. “None of that. Anyway, you have your orders. Lay low, data collection discreetly, etcetera.” He shuts the drawer loudly. “Dismissed.”

Rebecca rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Tomorrow, I’ll get those photos and whatever else I can get my hands on.”

“We can meet up again Friday!” Jonny adds, excited. “Maybe after dinner?”

Rebecca shakes her head. “That’s too late in the evening for something like this. If we’re going to have proper meetings, then lunchtime could work. We’re all seniors.”

“Friday lunches could work,” Thanatos agrees. “Jonny?”

“Sounds good! Just gotta grab our food and come back here.” He laughs. “We gotta be sneaky, but with the student president on our side, I’m sure we’ll be let off the hook.”

Grabbing her broom, Rebecca thwacks Jonny lightly on the head with the stick end. “Don’t get comfortable. Here, Friday afternoon, no tardiness.” And much like she entered, she leaves through the window. Thanatos magics it and the curtains shut with his pen.

“I said this to her earlier,” Thanatos starts after a beat of silence. “But thank you for checking on my sister.”

Jonny beams, and he pats Thanatos on the shoulder. “It’s no biggie, dude! She’s pretty cool, even told my fortune with her funky crystals. This one wouldn’t leave me alone though, so we’re pals now.” He pulls the citrine from his pocket.

“I may have been right then.” Thanatos pokes at it. “It was good you went. I’m sure you learnt a lot from her, hm?”

“If you mean the diviner thing, then yeah, I think so. I always stuck with evocation because, bro, bending fire like in cartoons is the coolest, but this is pretty neat too.” Jonny tosses it once, twice.

Thanatos smiles, something soft, but it’s brief as he turns his back to Jonny. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“In the middle of the afternoon?”

“I need to think.”

Jonny nods. “I’ll order us some lunch.”

Thanatos gives a thumbs up before shutting and locking the bathroom door behind him. Jonny sighs, deep and heavy, and he falls backwards from his seat on the couch arm to the cushions behind him. There’s soft crinkling as snacks are shifted further down and some even knocked off, but Jonny doesn’t think about it.

He holds the crystal up towards the ceiling, letting the sunlight peeking through the curtains reflect off its smooth sides. There’s no smile on his face, no excitement in his gaze. Jonny rubs at his eyes, always inwards to keep his contacts from moving, as he brings it back to his chest.

With a heavy heart, he makes a wish upon this little yellow star of his.


	8. Case One - Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rebecca does her first Crime™
> 
> WARNING(s): graphic depictions of death including blood, injury, etc.

Standing outside the headmaster’s office during lunch period has never made Rebecca feel as nervous, sneaky, or  _ dirty _ as she does right now. Mrs. Waurelt’s secretary, Rina Fein, is likely inside one of the office’s side rooms organizing something or other. Rebecca eyes the buzzer on the front desk, and she frowns. To go in without first getting Rina’s permission is heretical, but. . . Rebecca huffs.

Who does Thanatos Briar think he is, asking her to connive her way into the headmaster’s private documents? If she were to be caught, she could be expelled! There’s been no response to her email, no answers to her phone calls, nothing that shows the headmaster will cooperate easily. Regardless, it must be done if the status quo is to resume in this academy, and Rebecca longs for it to happen. So, she smooths out her skirt, takes a deep breath, and opens the door as quietly as possible, leaving it cracked oh so slightly behind her.

Mrs. Waurelt is nowhere to be seen in her massive office space, the only occupant being specks of dust floating in the light peeking through the massive velveteen curtains of the back wall window. The white of everything pricks goosebumps on her skin in a way that makes her pause.

Rebecca forces herself to focus, and she slips off her mary janes to place them in her messenger bag. Testing her socked foot against the white hardwood flooring, it’s almost silent. Walking on the rugs will be even safer, she thinks. Perfect. She takes her first steps forward.

Rina is definitely in here somewhere, but she knows she has to start, so she presses her ear against the first lower level door to her right. There’s no sound, so that’s a good start. She turns the knob and pushes it open. The sight filing cabinets lining this room wall to wall pushes her heart into her stomach.

“This. . . might take longer than I thought.”

The headmaster could return any moment, so instead of wasting her time worrying, Rebecca gets straight to work. This first room is all finances, and the rooms after that are similar in formal contents. The other rooms on the bottom level match similarly in tone, ranging from archived student and faculty records the student council largely have access to to a massive range of files dedicated solely to the academy’s several century history. The bathroom was standard, but she did find a toolset and some toiletries beneath the bathroom sink.

Rebecca clicks her tongue upon closing the last door downstairs, and she immediately regrets it.

“Who’s there?” calls a soft, adrogynous voice, and Rebecca quickly hides herself underneath the left side staircase, curled in and tucked as far under as possible, behind casual lounge furniture in the crook of the staircase. “If someone’s there, come out now before I set off the alarm.”

With every footstep down the stairs above her, Rebecca presses her hands even tighter to her mouth. She can’t see when Rina reaches the bottom, but she can hear her search the office, checking each door and every room, even pulling back the curtains with the scrape of metal rings against a metal rod.

Rebecca can feel tears pricking at her eyes. She doesn’t know at what point Rina’s calling voice began to sound like her mother’s, but it only stills her heart faster. Rina comes closer once more, heels clicking against the wood. Rebecca scrambles back quietly, but she pauses when she hears something shift. Her head whips around.

A door? A small, carved door lies hidden away much like Rebecca is. It’s simple in its decorations, bearing only trim around it, a silver knob, and a small keyhole. To think something like this was here, it almost doesn’t surprise her considering the age of the building. Almost.

Rina is almost to her, when an idea strikes, and she hurriedly texts Thanatos. A brief pause, and the three typing dots appear, but they cease as quickly as they came, and Rebecca bites her bottom lip. The steps get closer, and still nothing. . . nothing. . .  _ nothing. . . _

The phone goes off from outside the office, and Rina stops right in her tracks, just on the edge of Rebecca’s sight. She sighs, tucks her phone away into her back pocket, and walks away.

“Guess I’m hearing things again. I’ve got to stop listening to horror podcasts while I work,” Rina groans. The doorknob creaks as it turns, but Rina pauses. “Did I not shut this? I could’ve sworn. . .”

Rebecca swallows.

“It’s fine, Rina, we just won’t tell Mrs. Waurelt! She doesn’t have to know. That way, she can’t scold you for it again.” With another sigh, content this time, the door creaks open and then shuts. Rebecca peeks out.

Empty. The office is empty for real this time.

She beelines for the bathroom, hurriedly makes her way in, and buries her face in the toilet. It takes her a minute before her stomach settles again, but with that literally out of her system, she can get what she needs and get the  _ hell _ out of here. A face rinse and teeth brush with her finger later, Rebecca refocuses herself on the hidden door.

The first thing she does is test the knob, but when it doesn’t twist, she eyes the keyhole. “If only this place weren’t warded,” she mumbles. Her phone buzzes, and she jumps, barely avoiding knocking her head against the stairs.

It’s Thanatos. She presses answer, hesitantly, and holds her phone to her ear with her shoulder.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the phone with Ms. Fein?” she asks frustratedly.

“I made Jonny do it.”

Rebecca thinks about it briefly. “That. . . makes more sense. He’s a rambler, much like those other hooligans he hangs out with.”

He sighs from the other side. “Anyway, any progress?”

“I found a tiny door. It’s locked, and I know Mrs. Waurelt always keeps her keys on her.”

“How?”

“She’s old fashioned that way, keeps everything on a keyring, including a master key.” Rebecca does move to check the desk but all the drawers are locked as well. “If she doesn’t want someone somewhere, she’ll lock it and keep the only key with her; example given is her mug cabinet in the teacher’s lounge.”

Thanatos hums. “You wear bobby pins. Take two out.”

“What?” She kneels by the door again. “No, wait, I know what this is. I’m not going to lockpick my headmaster like some common thief!”

“Then pretend you’re a fancy thief and hurry it up. We don’t have all day.”

Grumbling under her breath, she does as told and removes the bobby pins keeping her side pieces tucked into her ponytail. They fall to frame her face.

“Okay, now what?”

“What kind of lock is it? Is it a digital lock like we use now or older?”

Rebecca pokes at the keyhole. “Definitely older. It. . . It looks like something out of a storybook, like that old ‘Alice in Wonderland’ one with the small door.”

“So it doesn’t look serrated, it just has a hole?”

“Yes,” she confirms, staring at the pins. Thanatos types something on his end, and he shifts in his seat.

“Ugh, warded locks. Go grab pliers if you can and turn on the camera.”

Pulling her phone away from her ear, she sets it on the floor. She rushes to grab pliers from the bathroom’s toolset. Lastly, with a quick dig into her bag, she connects her wireless earbuds, and she turns on the face camera. Thanatos is there, sitting at his desk, also holding a bobby pin.

“Warded locks are extremely old, dating back even to ancient China, but commonly known for their use in the middle ages. Brits still use them here for various purposes, God knows why,” he starts, and Rebecca nods. “They work by the key being in a specific shape to bypass wards-- specific obstructions in the lock --and turn to hit a button on the topside of the lock.”

“So we just need to hit that button.”

“Basically. We’re going to make a skeleton key using the bobby pins you have. Scrape the ends off the bobby pins with the pliers.” A job done quickly, and Thanatos nods. “Now bend one like this. The other is a backup.”

He shows her carefully. The pin is bent to a ninety-degree angle, and the very end of the straight edge is bent again, another right angle, so that it’s parallel to the bumpy edge.

“No, no, the other way. That little end needs to point in the same direction as the other side of the pin.”

Rebecca stops herself and fixes it, and she looks at her tool of crime resting in her palm. “Is. . . this really it?”

“Tumbler locks require two pins. Our modern locks require two to three sometimes depending on how advanced they are plus a credit card you don’t care about. I assume you have plenty of those.”

Rebecca sneers at him, but he rolls his eyes. “Push it into the lock. Hurry, I’m not sure how much longer Jonny can stall for.”

She carefully prods it in, and per Thanatos’ instruction, she pushes it as far back as it can go. She starts to twist it, but it won’t move, so she tries to force it at his behest. The bobby pin snaps a few times, and she pulls it out to find it mangled. Thanatos groans.

“The backup, now.”

She remakes her lockpick and tries once more, begrudgingly listening to Thanatos’ every word. Eventually, it hits something, and he tells her to turn it.

“Oh!” She exclaims quietly, proudly. The bobby pin turns and something clicks. She pulls it out, and she tries the doorknob again. “It opened! Briar, I did it!” Rebecca stares in awe at her handiwork. She catches a glimpse of the screen again just as he smiles oh-so slightly.

“Good work. Now get in there. Don’t worry about locking it back.”

“But--”

“I’ll take the blame for it, so stop dilly-dallying.” He turns off his camera. “Jonny is almost done. I’m going to come there and distract her in person until you sneak out.”

Before she can say anything further, he hangs up. She puts her phone and headphones away, and she keeps the pliers for time’s sake. Opening the door fully, she peers inside, but it goes deeper than she thought. Dangling in front of her though is a chain, and with a sharp pull, a dim yellow light turns on. Leading downward is a steep, brown wooden staircase.

Rebecca braces herself and crawls inside.

It takes a few steps down before she feels safe standing, but it’s worth it at the sight before her as the candles light themselves as she steps onto the floor. A small, confined study area complete with a desk, antique chair, and bookshelves strategically set into the walls of the entire room. It reminds her of Thanatos’ desk the day before, but this is by all means more haunted than a dorm room. Even the styling is darker wood, contrasting the white she’s so used to seeing, but none of it is dusty.

“If her office is warded, this place must be twice so,” she decides out loud to herself. “But if those girls really did die so recently, then the files must be recent too. . .” Rebecca eyes the busy desk.

Moving the chair behind her, she swipes aside papers on the desk as she scans them until, at the bottom of the stack, a black folder catches her eye. Hesitantly, she peels back the cover, but almost as quickly, she slams it shut. Rebecca sinks into the chair, and she pulls her hand away and to her chest as if splashed with acid.

“Holy  _ shit _ .” Rebecca feels bile rise at the back of her throat once more, but this time she forces it down. Her whispers are panicked. “There’s really a murderer here. There’s an actual, honest-to-God,  _ murderer _ here.”

She stares down the file mocking at her, black as night and holding blood in its pages by paperclips. Her shaking hand reaches out again, and she opens the folder properly. She scoots the chair forward to get a better look, but it’s only a little easier the second time. Barely.

A full page photo, high in its quality, acts as the front page of the folder’s contents. Dottie James, only sixteen years old, sprawled out on her stomach as if crawling, and her bloodied hands dig into the wall of one of the many lecture rooms. Her fingernails are bloodied from desperate scratching, and the back of her pajamas are ripped open to reveal horrific, tree-like markings. The “trunk” stems from the base of her spine, crawling up and branching out, black to red with white specks across the branches. They go far enough to hide under the remaining fabric, to wrap around her throat.

Dottie bleeds from every orifice on her shocked face, head sideways on the white floor. Her tears are stained red like the rest of her. Rebecca can only fathom the kind of pain she was in as this  _ thing _ stole her life from her. As she thinks it, “stole” feels like an accurate word. From the pictures in her student file, Dottie was on the thinner side, sure, but here she looks boney and decrepit.

Rebecca moves the picture over, but she’s only granted more photos, all closer and more detailed. They’re clearly professionally taken, so whoever Mrs. Waurelt hired for this wasn’t shaken by it. But fortunately for her, Rebecca finds the remaining papers to be reports rather than poor Dottie’s body.

There’s another black file under it, but Rebecca decides against opening it, feeling confident in their contents. She stashes both folders in her bag and hightails it out of that accursed space. Her knees are unsteady as she climbs the stairs. Her hands are trembling as she shuts the hidden door. Her stomach is burning as she approaches the office’s main door.

Rina is clearly talking to someone enthusiastically outside, loud enough to make Rebecca wince, so she opens the door much like she did before. There’s Thanatos, chatting away with a charming smile, a clever caress of his own hair, a focused gaze. He never stops looking at Rina even as he pulls his ponytail over his shoulder to cleverly disguise the brief, fluid point down the hall for Rebecca. Rina is excitedly showing him something on his phone without a care in the world.

Rebecca has no time to curse him for being so womanizing. Instead, she thanks him internally, sneaks out, and shuts the door softly. It’s not until she finally turns the next corner that she lets her back hit the wall.

As she relearns to breath, Thanatos eventually makes it to her side. He frowns. “Well?”

She pulls out the folders and slams them into his chest as she simultaneously begins putting her shoes back on. “Never  _ ever _ again.”

Without opening them, Thanatos puts them in his own bag. “If it makes you feel any better,” he begins. She stands after snapping her shoe strap back into place. He turns away when she tries to make eye contact. “If it makes you feel any better, it won’t have been for nothing.”

Rebecca can’t even bring herself to smile, but she lets out a bitter laugh. “Just take the stupid files, solve this thing, and leave.” Her fists clench until her knuckles are white, and her eyes stare holes into the floor. Thanatos looks at her again, cautious.

There’s silence thick like miasma, and they both stand there, wading in it. Thanatos crosses his arms. “Did you. . . look in them? The files.” Rebecca nods, and she thinks she’s hallucinating as his face softens slightly. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you.”

Her head snaps up, but he’s already walking down the hallway. “Wait--” she tries weakly, but he doesn’t stop.

“There’s nothing else for you to do besides keep an eye on Angelica Waterson.” He doesn’t spare her a backwards glance, but he does briefly tap his gloved index finger against her shoulder as he passes. “Until Friday, Miss Hawthorne.”

Rebecca presses her palms to her eyes so as not to cry.


	9. Case One - Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some good ol' fashioned bonding! :)

“Is this really the only club room available?” Thanatos asks, crossing his arms and frowning.

“Aw, I think it’s nice! Even if it is. . . tiny?” Jonny retorts with an optimistic smile. Rebecca sighs, and she magics the door shut with a wave of her hand.

Tiny is certainly a fitting word. The room is a former storage room with another closet inside of it, but on the back wall are two large windows that match those in the hallway. There is a single rectangular, white table with two white chairs on either short side of it. Where the third chair should be, instead, is a desk with it’s back towards the window. An officer chair completes the setup. The room has no other decorations or signs of use.

Rebecca strides to the right side chair and takes her seat. “It’s the best I could do,” she says. “All official clubrooms are already booked, and we need to keep this discreet, so I had some of the Rugby boys move the stuff in here out and swap it with some of the old student council room furniture.” With a smirk, she crosses her legs. “I organized the rest myself.”

Jonny takes his seat opposite of Rebecca and leans back, propping his feet up on the corner of the table. “Hell yeah, dude!” Rebecca knocks his feet off with the back of her hand. He laughs. “It almost feels like a real club, but I’m surprised you didn’t take the desk, Becca.”

“Of course I wouldn’t, I’m--” Rebecca shoots up, her face flaring red. She slams her hands down. “Excuse me, did you just call me  _ Becca?!” _

Thanatos rolls his eyes and takes the desk seat for himself, pulling out files from his bag and arranging them neatly. He also places his laptop, ready to take notes, but as he tries to pull up the program, Jonny rushes to hide behind him.

“Woah, calm down! It’s just a nickname!”

Rebecca points, accusatory, at him, other hand fisted and resting against her hip. “You’re getting far too comfortable, Greenwell! Referring to me so casually. . . I’m your student council president!”

Jonny leans over Thanatos’ shoulder, forcing him to curl in as the taller’s chest presses to the back of his head. He groans, but Jonny doesn’t notice.

“C’mon!” Jonny exclaims. “We’ve gotta be friends by now, especially if we’re gonna do this as a team. What’s wrong with Becky?” He pauses in though, fingers tapping against the desk. “Actually, maybe that’s too girly for you. . . Becky, then?”

Rebecca gasps. “That’s worse! Far too American!”

“Bex?”

“Excuse you, do you take me for some punk delinquent?!”

Thanatos finally huffs, and he pushes Jonny off of him. “Enough, both of you. Just settle on something and move on.”

Rebecca and Jonny both look at him, and say, “Oh, like what?” Rebecca is far more angry, but Jonny’s voice is genuinely curious. They continue to stare at him, and Thanatos licks his teeth.

“I don’t know. . . Rob, then?”

Jonny absolutely  _ beams _ while Rebecca looks positively disgusted with the notion, but before she can argue, Jonny is rushing back to his seat. He raps his fist lightly on the table like a judge’s gavel.

“Rob it is! Oh, that’s so good.”

Thanatos gestures to Rebecca’s seat. “Well, Rob, if you would sit then.”

Producing the most flustered, frustrated noise she can muster, Rebecca sits down and crosses her arms. She glares at Jonny, but he’s rather immune to it at this point, so she gives up and kisses her teeth.

“With that out of the way, I suppose this ‘official meeting’ can begin,” says Thanatos, air-quoting. He finally gets his note-taking sorted, and he hands each of them one of the two black files. Rebecca’s energy vanishes quickly. “Jonny, Ms. Hawthorne and I have already seen them-- I in more detail --so I’ll warn you now, it’s. . . not a pleasant sight, but you know more about the victim in that folder than either of us.”

Jonny’s enthusiasm, too, fades, and he glances down at the folder. Bracing himself, he opens it, but Rebecca and Thanatos are surprised to see him so. . . unphased by it. Instead, Jonny drags a hand down is face and sets the stack of photos aside. “Kelcey. . . Are these real? For real, real?”

“Unfortunately,” Thanatos confirms. “Both died in lecture halls, as confirmed by Ms. Hawthorne, and both met their fate as Mrs. Waurelt and I had suspected.”

Jonny clenches his fists on the table. “Necromancy.”

Thanatos nods. “Correct. This particular spell is a necromantic curse called ‘To Déntro tou Thanátou’, having its origins from Greek necromancy tomes found in pieces across Europe. It roughly translates to ‘The Tree of Death’.”

A heavy pause falls over them as Thanatos gives the two time to think. Rebecca breaks the silence first, tracing her fingers along Dottie’s photographed back. “So when Sibylla said for you to ‘watch your back’, this is what she meant, isn’t it?” 

“Wait,” Jonny adds. “So this is what’s familiar to you?”

Thanatos sighs, and he rests his elbows on his desk. The other two eye the way he bites the inside of his lip. “Yes,” he confirms. “I’ve dealt with it in the past. It’s an incredibly strong, lethal spell only performable by powerful necromancers. Whoever we’re dealing with is to be taken much more seriously than I initially suspected.”

“It’s no wonder Headmaster Waurelt kept this hidden, then.” Jonny scans the reports as he speaks. “Besides reputation, imagine the kinda panic we’d have if everyone found out someone so dangerous were actually here.”

Rebecca nods in agreement. “These photos could get out if she wasn’t or we aren’t careful.”

“If she really cared about her students more than the school’s profitability,” Thanatos starts, and Rebecca’s frown deepens. “She would’ve shown them to me in private. Thinking I can track a necromancer with no cause of death shows how little she really knows.”

“Watch how you speak about her, Briar! She’s doing the best she can. . .” Rebecca trails off, but it doesn’t take his past as a detective to see the doubt blooming in her eyes. “Anyway, now we know, so how do we stop them?”

“I told you this before, in the library, didn’t I? We need to find our next victim.” Thanatos types away at his keyboard.

“It’s probably Angie, then, yeah?” Jonny asks. “She fits the bill almost to a tee. We just gotta check and see if she has the tree on her back, and if she does, then we watch her like a hawk.”

“We can’t use one of our students as  _ bait _ . What if we’re not there to stop the curse in time?” Rebecca holds up one of the photos and points to it. “We can’t let this happen to another girl!”

Thanatos sighs. “Assuming the date pattern holds true, there’s still precisely two weeks left until our deadline: October 27th. So far, both of the other girls have died on the last Friday of every month.” He turns his laptop around, displaying a calendar. “Assume each curse starts within a week post the previous victim’s death, then it’s about halfway finished on our next victim; seeing the mark on the next target will be easy.”

Jonny hums. “So, we just need to check Angie’s back?”

“Basically. And every other redhead girl who matches the profile.”

“That’s up to Rob, then, since she’s the only girl here, and I don’t think either of us are getting lucky with a lady anytime soon.”

Rebecca crosses her legs over the other way. “Or,  _ idiot _ , we can just ask Sibylla. Surely, she can catch a glimpse of her own suitemate coming out of the shower. If Angelica doesn’t have it, then I’ll try looking elsewhere.”

Thanatos pulls out his phone. “I’ll let her know.”

“Oh, also,” Rebecca continues. “When I was in Mrs. Waurelt’s office, I found a hidden study. That’s where the files were kept. I didn’t see anything the girl’s owned, nor did I have time to check, but I doubt it’s in there.”

He nods as he texts. “Then, we’ll find some other way to obtain one of their belongings. Risking another stunt like that so soon would be less than ideal.”

“I could try talking to Kelcey’s friends again!” Jonny suggests excitedly. “Maybe they’ve got something.”

“By all means, go for it.”

A long, old bell rings across campus, and all three of them stop in their tracks.

Jonny scratches his neck. “Ah, man. Do we have to stop? I have Alchemy II, and if I can avoid it, all the better.”

“Absolutely not!” Rebecca rises from her seat, placing everything back into her file and then doing the same for Jonny. She taps them against the table to straighten them before returning them to Thanatos. Thanatos puts away his belongings as well, files included. “Both of you get to your classes. I may tolerate being ordered around in an investigation, but I won’t tolerate my students being truant.”

Both boys roll their eyes, but they follow her lead to the door. Thanatos waits for them to go first before shutting the door behind them. Rebecca locks it then hands him the key.

“I suppose then, our first meeting is adjourned.”

* * *

Jonny watches the sunset from their dorm’s sofa, tossing the citrine up out of a newly formed habit. Being in his casual clothes instead of that stuffy uniform always feels so much better on his skin, and fuzzy socks are always the best. He listens, half-interested, to whatever is on the TV, but it’s drowned out mostly by the sound of cooking in the kitchenette.

“Whatcha making?” he calls.

“Poorman’s pasta,” Thanatos responds, and Jonny misses catching the citrine. It falls to the couch. He laughs, confused.

“What?” He hops up and approaches Thanatos, who is only in a grey t-shirt and black jeans, from behind, leaning over his shoulder. His height makes it easy. “What the hell is ‘poorman’s pasta’?”

Inside the pot on their induction plate is nothing but fettuccine noodles. There’s no sauce in sight, nor are there a lot of spices; only garlic, salt, and pepper rest on the counter. Thanatos stirs the noodles before turning off the plate and reaching for the strainer.

“It’s noodles with parmesan cheese. That’s it. Cheap and easy.” Thanatos strains the noodles in the sink before dumping them in the pot. He grabs the bottle of finely grated parmesan and aggressively shakes plenty of it into the pot. “Sib and I eat this all the time at home.”

“Like  _ all _ the time? Do you ever make real food?”

“This  _ is _ real food, Jonathan. Some days, it’s all we can afford. That or sixty-three pence ramen.” The cheese melts as he talks. “Bowls.”

Jonny grabs two bowls out of the cabinet, little plastic things, and Thanatos pours in the cheesy noodles. He shakes some garlic powder on top. Jonny, despite his words, feels his mouth watering. Thanatos hands him a fork, and Jonny sticks it in for a bite and brings it to his mouth.

“Bone appetit,” Jonny says, butchering the phrase. He chews, and for something so simple, it’s actually quite nice.

Thanatos snorts.

Jonny pauses, swallows, and gestures with his fork. “Did-- Did you just laugh?”

Thanatos looks away, grabbing his own bowl and retreating to the couch. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Also, it’s  _ bon appetít _ , by the way.”

“What did  _ I _ say?” Jonny blinks, but he rushes to join his roommate on their sofa. He eats another hearty mouthful of pasta.

“You said appetit, emphasis on the tit.”

Jonny snickers and slaps his leg. “Tit. That’s never not a funny word.”

Thanatos eats much more slowly, eyes on the TV. “I suppose so.”

Jonny hasn’t seen him this relaxed since he got here, but it’s not saying much. He can see the dark circles, the stiffness in his shoulders, the persistent furrow to his brow. But Jonny doesn’t say anything. He just lets the two of them relax and enjoy their dinner together.

Once Thanatos is done, long after Jonny, however, Jonny says something.

“Hey, maybe you should take a shower first tonight. Y’know, get all the gunk off and get a good night’s sleep.” He rests his arm on Thanatos’ shoulder. “Leave the dirty dishes to me, bro.”

Thanatos sighs and brushes his arm away. He stands. “There’s still too much to do.” Jonny stands with him.

“C’mon, it won’t hurt you to take a break! You’ve been at this non-stop all week, especially since Rob got you those files.” He starts pushing Thanatos to the bathroom.

“Jonny--!” Thanatos tries to protest, but Jonny is stronger than he anticipated. They’re at the closed door. “Leave it be! Go do the dishes!”

Jonny grabs the hem of Thanatos’ shirt and pulls up, rolling his eyes. The leverage forces Thanatos’ hands onto the door with a hitch of his breath.

_ “Jonathan!” _ Thanatos yells, and Jonny looks back to Thanatos, startled. At first he checks his roommate’s expression, concerned, but then bright red catches his gaze.

His fingers holding up most of Thanatos’ shirt, the other’ back is revealed in full view. All of the humour and delight from before sinks out of his body and into the floorboards. He hears Thanatos’ fingers scratch the wooden door as they curl into fists. Jonny steps back. Thanatos doesn’t move.

“Dude. . . your back!” Jonny gasps in horror. Crawling along Thanatos’ spine from the base upwards are red scars, starting all together like the trunk of a tree before branching out as they move upwards. They almost reach his neck but stop short just before. Against the olive of Thanatos’ skin, they’re hauntingly beautiful.

“I  _ told _ you--” Thanatos says, low and dangerous. “--to leave it  _ be.” _

Jonny bites his lip. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I--”

Thanatos pulls his shirt off the rest of the way, and he folds it carefully. He opens the bathroom door. “That shower sounds like an excellent idea, now.”

As Thanatos is walking inside, Jonny grabs him by his always-bandaged arm. Thanatos flinches. “Wait, Toasty!” Thanatos stops. Jonny swallows. “Please, hold on just a second.”

Hesitantly, Thanatos turns around, but he refuses to look at Jonny. “Make it quick.”

“I really am sorry. Are. . . are you okay? Those scars, they’re the same as the girls, aren’t they?” His hand shifts from the other’s shoulder to Thanatos’ side, where he can see one of the branches begin to wrap around.

Thanatos shudders, but he nods. “They are. I’m fine.  _ Don’t _ touch them.” Jonny pulls away, but only a little. He looks like he accidentally stepped on a dog’s foot.

“Sorry. . .”

“It’s,” he sighs. “It’s fine. You meant no harm. These scars are old, so it’s not like they hurt, but they’re sensitive.”

It’s awkward, too quiet now, but the way Jonny fidgets only makes it worse. Thanatos takes his wrist and turns his palm upside. He puts his t-shirt in it. Jonny grasps it gently.

“Please, Thanatos, would you tell me what happened? Is this why it’s familiar to you?” He gasps. “Is this why you were so upset last week?”

Thanatos quirks a brow. “Intuitive.” He looks into the bathroom. “But that’s none of your business; can we leave it at that?”

Jonny nods solemnly. “At least tell me if there’s a way to stop it?”

“There is.” He pulls away, and Jonny lets him. “Only a strong necromancer can cast the spell, and just the same, only a strong necromancer can do something about it.”

“Then who did it for you?”

Thanatos doesn’t answer. Jonny rubs his arm. He looks at Thanatos’ shirt and laughs nervously.

“Okay, I’ll, uh, leave you alone then. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

With one last glance over his shoulder, Thanatos offers him a weak approximation of a smile. “Stop apologizing. Go do the dishes and throw that in my hamper.” He steps inside. “And pull up that one movie you were rambling about this morning at breakfast.”

Jonny’s entire body relaxes, and he smiles back. With a hearty salute, he says, “Yes, sir!”

The shower was certainly worth it, Thanatos decides afterwards. He can’t remember the last time he took a shower this long, this peacefully. For once, he didn’t even set a timer. The feeling lasts even as he puts on pajamas and sits next to Jonny on the sofa. Jonny brings him a blanket and some popcorn, not for a moment curbing his wordy enthusiasm about the movie, even as he presses play.

He doesn’t remember when he fell asleep, but he wakes up the next morning in his own bed, covered a little clumsily, to the familiar sound of Jonny snoring. He runs his fingers along his back and shivers; it could’ve been worse, he supposes. Someone was bound to find out, might as well be a guy like Jonny. Maybe he’ll tell Rebecca at some point, too, but for now, this is okay. 

Although, once he leaves, it won’t matter anyway. With a sigh, he turns over to face the wall and curl in on himself. The sooner he can get this over with, the better.


	10. Case One - Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> toast: i don't do dumb mistakes in front of other people  
> chapter 10: i'm boutta end this man's whole career

The coming Wednesday rolls around, and by the trio’s account, some progress has been made. Thanatos types away at his computer, reading and rereading the notes he’s taken the past five days. So far, his amateur helpers have done a better job at narrowing down potential victims excellently while he himself waits for Sibylla’s own discoveries.

Rebecca has been using her Party Planning Committee duties to keep an eye on Angie and other potential victims she’s managed to recruit. So far, according to her accounts, they all seem fine save for the usual mid-term exhaustion that’s beginning to set in. Angie helps with as much enthusiasm as possible, but that doesn’t sooth his nerves.

Jonny, on the other hand, has had a more hands on approach. Patting the backs and shoulders of classmates and friends, he’s managed to eye their reactions. So far, there’s been no dice. The good news, Jonny told him this morning, is that one of Kelcey’s friends still had a bra that she left in their dorm room before she “moved out,” presumably on accident. When Jonny asked, he learnt that it had been left there before any of the tutoring sessions took up her evenings.

“It’s a distinct behavioural change,” he mutters to himself. Jonny sips his energy drink from his place on the floor, humming in question. Thanatos sighs. “It still bothers me why any of them would suddenly decide why they need to be tutored. They were both model students, so something had to have happened.”

Jonny offers him the drink can for a sip, but Thanatos, visibly disgusted, holds up a hand in polite decline. Jonny shrugs. “Well, maybe they were just worried? Like, dude, the pressure in this place is huge.”

Thanatos shakes his head. “It’s too specific to just be that.” He swivels in his chair and rests his elbows on his knees. “We have two, potentially three girls that fit a distinct victim profile all following the same behavioural pattern a month prior to each of their deaths.”

“So. . . someone could be changing what they do by force?”

“Possibly.” He runs a hand through his bangs. “Grab me the bra.”

Jonny does as asked and hands his roommate the black, lacey bra but not without a red face and holding it with only two fingers. Thanatos rolls his eyes and examines it. Jonny stares at his lap the entire time.

There’s nothing notable about it. It’s just some affordable, padded thing. It’s nothing Thanatos hasn’t had to handle or even buy for his sister before. He holds it out to Jonny. “You’re going to have to get used to touching it. It’s an undergarment, not a rotten piece of food.”

“I know that!” He snatches it back. “I have sisters too, y’know! But this kinda thing is private!”

Thanatos squints. “How’d they even give this to you?”

At this, Jonny flushes harder. “I said Kelcey told me to grab stuff she left behind. I even faked a text convo and everything.” Thanatos raises a brow, and Jonny curls in a little further. “And I said I’d do them a favour later.”

“Sure, sure. . . We can use it, regardless. The citrine my sister gave you will be useful in that endeavor as well.”

Jonny tilts his head. “Yeah?”

Across the campus, a loud bell tones once, and both boys rise from their seats. “We’ll take care of it tonight. I’d ask one of your teachers about pendulums today, if you have the chance.”

With a grin and salute, Jonny nods. “Yessir!”

* * *

The sun sets on Waurelt’s campus, and Thanatos gives a curt wave to Jonny, Edward, and Mason as they bound off towards the boys’ dorm, bellies full, past Thanatos’ seat outside the cafeteria. He “needed to think,” as he told the three of them, but there he sits with his phone on his lap, earbuds connected, watching some dog video while he shoves mashed potatoes in his mouth. There wasn’t much thinking to be done, rather he needs to investigate alone for a while; the noises are beginning to get to him.

Engaged in the video and rather bland food, he jumps in his seat when he receives a tap on his shoulder. Looking up, he quickly pauses his phone and takes out a bud. “Miss Matthews, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Winnie smiles and nervously waves her hands. “Oh, uh, nothing! I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” She glances away and then back. _“Are_ you okay?”

“I’m as okay as ever, thank you.” He pauses in thought, and he hears her swallow. “Actually, Miss Matthews, I was wondering if you’d accompany me this evening through the school again.”

Her flush pales, and she shakes her head. “I would love to, believe me, but I have tutoring tonight. I was on my way there now.” He frowns. Tutoring?

“Tutoring?” he asks, curious. She nods.

“Mid-terms, and all.”

“I see.” His appetite vanishes, and so he begins putting away his things. “It is rather late, though. Be careful.”

Winnie’s smile comes back full swing, and she fiddles with her hair. “I will be! I’m stronger than I look!” She makes a one-two punch, and it makes Thanatos huff, involuntarily, with laughter.

“I believe you.”

Thanatos closes his take-out box and throws it into the nearby trash bin. He starts heading in the direction of the boys’ dorm. He gently pats her back as he passes, and she jumps, but only in surprise.

“Take care, then.”

“You too!” she calls, waving.

With a keen ear, he waits for her jog away to grow quieter, before he turns right on his heel and begins to follow. Thanatos’ mind runs in circles. He checks his phone: _7:00 p.m._

He remains close enough to see her even as she turns corners. Eventually, they end up in a classroom on the east-side first floor. Thanatos’ heart picks up, but he carries onward even as the sun vanishes over the horizon, and the only lights that fill the halls are dusk peeking between the curtains and classrooms with teachers grading papers inside. Some even give him a brief glance from their ajar doors, to which he responds with a courteous nod.

At the far end of this hall, Winnie knocks on a door, and after a brief moment, she’s let inside by someone Thanatos can’t see. When it shuts, he stalks towards it and presses his ear to the door. He bites his lip. The voices are definitely Winnie’s and a man’s, but they’re far too muffled behind these thick, old-fashioned doors. He can only catch about every fourth or fifth word; it’s not enough by any means.

He reaches into his bag without looking, feeling around for something, _anything_ that could help him, but damn him _now_ for not being prepared for once. His earbuds? He could certainly place one under the door and press record, but they’re cheap things, and the sound quality has always been shit. Plus, they’re wired, and he doesn’t feel like curling up in front of a door. There _must_ be something he has on him to help. . .

“Hey, your phone’s buzzing,” says a voice next to his ear, and his breath hitches. “But you’re too busing being nosy to notice.” She giggles and pulls back as he whips around to catch a glimpse.

Thanatos sighs in relief. “You’re Sibylla’s roommate, Angelica Waterson.” He pauses to think, pulling out his indeed buzzing phone. Sibylla’s sent photos and frantic messages, and he swipes, unlocking his screen. He frowns.

“So, I was right! You’re her brother.” Angie laughs behind her hand. “She talks about you so much, loves to brag.” She pokes at his cheek, and he shuts his phone off, backing up into the door with an audible, soft slam. “Why the long face?”

“It’s nothing. I—”

He’s tripping backwards when the door behind him opens, but a hand between his shoulder blades catches him. He cranes his neck back. Mr. Thompson stands with a curious, concerned eye.

“Ato?” asks Winnie, voice shaky, from behind him. “What’re you doing here?”

“An excellent question,” says Mr. Thompson. Thanatos quickly composes himself, tucking his phone into his pants pocket.

“It’s getting darker sooner now.” He gestures to the windows of the classroom. “I wanted to make sure she got here alright.”

Mr. Thompson smiles, and he pats Thanatos’ shoulder only to receive a wince in return. “What a good man.” He circles behind Winnie and gently pushes her forward. “You can walk her home then.”

Winnie doesn’t resist, but she does protest, “But, sir!”

“It’s alright, Winifred. I forgot to tell you about the schedule change anyway, and you’re doing just fine. We can meet again this Friday if you’re that nervous about midterms.” He pushes until Winnie is out the door, standing between Thanatos and Angie. Winnie attempts to speak again, but an obvious hard stare from Mr. Thompson shuts her mouth. She holds herself and looks at her feet.

“Yes, sir.”

Angie takes advantage of the open doorway and cheerily saunters inside, winking at Thanatos. “My turn! Gotta keep those grades up, y’know! Would you tell the student council president I can’t make it to Party Planning tonight, Miss Secretary?”

Winnie nods. “Of. . . of course.”

With a final look, Angie closes the door loudly, and the sound of it locking has both Thanatos and Winnie taking a step back. Winnie grabs his hand, and begins to pull. He frowns.

“I can’t believe you followed me!” she exclaims, hushed enough to keep it private but loud enough to squeeze at Thanatos’ chest. He plants his feet down, and it yanks her backwards with a squeak.

“I was being honest, Winifred.”

Winnie squeezes his hand tighter, and she rubs at her eyes. He doesn’t make a move to let go. “Did. . . did you hear anything?”

“No. I had just gotten there when Miss Waterson snuck up on me. I bumped into the door when I turned around to see who it was.” He focuses on breathing, keeping his posture. She eyes him, and then their hands, and she quickly pulls it back.

“I. . . I see. I’m sorry.” She holds it to her chest. “Thank you, anyway, for the thought.”

Thanatos nods, and he digs in his pocket. He frowns, scrambling through all his pants and coat pockets. He even digs through his bag. Winnie steps forward.

“What’s wrong?”

“My phone. . . I must have dropped it back at the classroom.” He turns around to head back, but once again, Winnie grabs at his hand.

Winnie tugs. “Can’t you get it tomorrow?” He shakes his head.

“With my profession? We both know I can’t.”

She lets go and sighs. “Then, I’ll go with you.” Her hands wave in panicked motions. “S-So you don’t get lost!”

Thanatos eyes her, but he gestures onward, and so they return to the area. At his insistence, they agree to look for it separately, and Winnie shuffles away awkwardly to check around the hallway. He, on the other hand, heads straight to the opposite door Mr. Thompson and company had previously used, the one at the other end of the classroom.

Kneeling, he pulls out his phone and hastily checks Sibylla’s messages again. “It’s her after all. Nice work, Sib,” he whispers, cracking a confident grin. Quickly, he dismisses all the notifications, changes his passcode, and sets the phone to voice record. He locks it and slides it just underneath the door.

He rises and rushes back to Winnie. “Any luck?” he asks, and she shakes her head.

“No, I’m sorry. . .”

Thanatos scratches his neck. “Neither could I, so don’t fret about it. Perhaps waiting until the morning would be best, as you said.”

Winnie looks around. “Really?”

“This school _does_ have a lost-and-found, doesn’t it?” She nods, and he shrugs. “Then someone will pick it up and turn it in.” He casually slides his hand in hers and starts walking, and she follows clumsily at first. “I’ll walk you back to the dorms.”

Winnie giggles and gently squeezes. “Do you know how to get there?”

Thanatos hums. “Perhaps you should take the lead again.”

So she does, and without much time at all, he bids her good night at the girls’ dorm entrance. He instinctively reaches for his phone, but finds his pockets empty for real this time. Sighing, he shuffles back to his own dormitory.

“What took you so long, dude?” Jonny laughs as he opens the door for him, and Thanatos’ beeline for his desk sours his roommate’s good mood. “Dude?” He shuts the door so he can lean over Thanatos’ shoulder.

Staring at his corkboard, Thanatos grabs a red pin. “Hold this.” He points to Winnie’s photo, and with his index finger, Jonny does as asked. With deft hands, Thanatos ties a new red string from Mr.Thompson’s red pin, and he leads it to Winnie’s orange one. He switches the orange for a red and ties the string tightly to it. Jonny bites his lip, and Thanatos leans back in his chair.


	11. Case One - Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> looks like SOMEONE (rebecca) just can't keep her mouth shut!!!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING(S): contains brief mentions of past self harm, allusion to unusual (but non-explicit) student/teacher relationship
> 
> as always, please proceed with caution when reading, and if there are any additional warnings i should add, please say so!

Jonny watches as his roommate finally slinks out of the comfort of his bed and onto the floor. Slowly, Thanatos rubs at his eyes and shuffles to the bathroom, not sparing Jonny a single glance. Too tired, as Jonny has noticed he is every morning they’ve been roommates. It surprised him, at first, that  _ he _ was the early riser of the two.

“Morning, Toasty!” he calls, and he gets a grunt in return.

Thanatos pauses in the doorway, turns around, and begins patting his bed. When nothing appears, he searches his bag. Jonny laughs.

“Whatcha looking for?”

He grumbles, “My phone. . .”

Jonny squints, and he scoots over on his desk chair. “Bro, you left it behind, remember? You said you were recording something.”

Thanatos stares at him for several beats before groaning, smacking his own face, and dragging his hand down in misery. “God dammit.”

“You seriously forgot?”

Grabbing his pillow, he thwacks it hard into Jonny’s face and once more shuffles off to the bathroom. Jonny picks it up for him and places it back, and he otherwise leaves Thanatos to stew in his own half-awake thoughts.

And stew in his thoughts, he does.

The bathroom is as immaculately clean as ever, and for once, he wishes it wasn’t. Thanatos can see himself in the mirror perfectly, and that includes his dark circles and his awful bed hair. Holding up his arm, he can see the poor state of his arm’s bandages. It’s time to rewrap them, he supposes, so he makes sure the bathroom door is locked. He scoffs, as if Jonny would intrude on him in the first place.

On his side of the sink, he reaches into a drawer housing his personal first aid kit, and he sets it on the counter. Inside, he finds a pair of bandage scissors and what little remains of his current roll. The old bandages come off quickly with a few snips. It’s not as if they’re dirty from wounds; these wounds are old in nature and appearance. Soft, pale scars, thin just like the razors they’re from cover his forearms unsparingly. He runs his calloused fingers over them and sighs. It’s already been ten years.

Thanatos rewraps them quickly before moving on to his normal morning routine: dry shampoo to last him until the evening, teeth brushed to hell and back, face washed to avoid breakouts. Hair half up today? Sounds fine; if Sibylla can pull it off, so can he. He takes the time to braid the sides and bring them together with the top half of his hair into something approximating a messy bun. The rest stays down and loose, letting the true waviness of his hair free from his usual over-the-shoulder braid.

With a final look in the mirror, he decides this should be fine, and he exits. Jonny tosses him something, and he barely manages to catch it.

“A breakfast sandwich?” he asks. Jonny grins.

“You were in there a while, so I ran and got one from the caf.” Jonny points to Thanatos’ laptop, resting on his desk, with his thumb. “You should check for an email from lost and found.”

Thanatos unwraps the sandwich, takes a bit, and sits. “Who runs it?”

“Uh, Rina, the secretary.”

“Ah, the tall girl from the headmaster’s office. I recall.” He holds the sandwich in his mouth as he types away. Muffled, he says, “Nothing.” A bite and swallow. “That’s problematic.”

Jonny slides over and rests his elbow on Thanatos’ shoulder. Thanatos pulls away slightly, but he sighs and relents. Jonny hums. “If you talk to her at lunch, you should be able to ask for it.” He leans in and takes a bite from the sandwich. “Real dumb of you to leave your phone, though, smartypants.”

Thanatos groans and pushes Jonny away by the face. “Don’t remind me. Plus, being called stupid by  _ you _ makes it worse.”

“Wow, rude!” Despite his words, Jonny laughs it off. “Anyway, I’ll tell Rob, so that way she knows to text me and not you.” Thanatos nods.

“So be it.”

* * *

“So be it,” sighs Rebecca.

Winnie nods. “Thank you, ma’am.” She sits at the long conference table in the student council office, alone in the room with Rebecca, who’s seated at her desk at the head of the table. “That seems to be everything regarding the teacher’s concerns from the last staff meeting.”

Rebecca rubs at her temples. “It only grows with every moment, Winifred. At this point, a disciplinary committee might be necessary.” With vague, frustrated gestures to the room, she continues, “Some of these fools don’t know how to behave, and  _ I _ get the brunt of it all; don’t they know when they misbehave, it all comes back to me before it even  _ touches _ the headmaster?”

“Perhaps, if you spoke to the students more, you’d know why they lash out or disrupt class. . .” Winnie murmurs. Rebecca sits up straight, narrowing her gaze.

“Pardon me?” She aggressively taps her pen against her desk. “For the last time: if you’re going to say something, stop mumbling.”

Winnie shakes her head. “No, it’s nothing. My apologies, Miss President, I was talking to myself.” Before Rebecca can respond, she continues. “There were still a few questions from students regarding the Halloween ball, mostly about food, but there was something—”

She waves her hand dismissively, “Unless it’s an emergency, I have my hands full with leading the committee itself. We’ve got everything under control.”

Winnie swallows and closes the notebook in front of her with a slam more forceful than she intends. “Fine, but the Theatre Club’s president still wants a meeting with you so he can talk about costumes and their performance times.”

Rebecca huffs and leans down to open her drawer, but what she sees— or rather, lack thereof —gives her pause. “That’s odd. . .” she says, and she begins going through the rest of her draws, digging and shifting contents around. She grows more frantic. “Could I have dropped it?”

“Dropped what?” Winnie asks.

“My planner. You wouldn't have happened to have seen it, would you?” Winnie shakes her head quickly, back stiff straight, and Rebecca groans. “You best not be lying, Winifred.”

“I’m not!” Winnie shoots up from her seat, blushes, and sits back down. Visibly panicking, she stares a hole into her lap. “If it’s missing, why don’t you ask Ato— er, I mean, why don’t you ask Mr. Briar to find it?”

Rebecca’s face goes red with frustration at the mention of him, and she begins pacing around the room furiously. Her hands gesture into the air nonsensically. If not for the comedic bounce of the puffy uniform skirt and Rebecca’s melodrama, Winnie would have half the mind to be intimidated, but instead she covers her mouth with her hand, hiding a small, amused smile.

“Don’t even get me  _ started _ on him! What an annoying prick he is, constantly ordering me—” She points to herself. “Me!” Another shake at the innocent air. “—around like some kind of pet! As soon as he realized who I was, that boy should have been at my beck and call, but it’s as though the Hawthorne name means nothing to him!”

“Maybe it doesn’t?” Winnie supplies. Rebecca spins on her heel and pinches her nose’s bridge.

“Then he’s an idiot if I’ve ever seen one! Never in my life will I place myself in debt to him let alone for a measly planner.” She scoffs. “I can buy a new one, even though it’s a pain to replace something handcrafted like that.”

The other leans forward, and she pokes at the table. “But why pay for a new one if you don’t have to?”

“It’s not as if it will make a dent in the family's wallet, so why not?” Rebecca argues. “I’d rather spend my money and hold my pride than ask him for help, end of story. Why bring him up anyway?”

“Well—”

“No, actually, a better question: why bring him to the staff and council meeting at all?!” She kisses her teeth. “I was having such a nice morning that day, too, and he had to show up and ruin it!” Rebecca’s eyes lock with Winnie’s, and she stares her down as hard as she can.

Winnie’s smile dissipates quickly. “Well, um, I’d imagine he just wanted to see the staff and student council, really. . . Didn’t he say it was for his sister?” She fidgets. “Given his prowess as a detective, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was evaluating us as suspects for something.”

Rebecca takes a moment to think before she slides from her hands to her elbows on the table, bent over and crossing them. She taps the tip of her mary-janes against the floor to the tick of the room’s clock. “Suspects? For what? He’s just here as a guest student.”

Winnie hesitates, but she continues, cautiously, “Well, if something was going on at this school, then he’d be the one to call, right?” She licks her bottom lip. “Not that I would know of anything going on besides the usual, but his presence here isn’t exactly what I’d call subtle.”

“Most of us have some form of social status.” Rebecca’s eyes narrow and then dart away briefly. “More or less.” Winnie frowns. “But you’re awfully aware of him, Winifred. . .”

She crosses her arms, frown deepening. “So?”

Rebecca stands up straight once more and approaches her desk. “Forget it; his popularity is just annoying, especially with the staff! I mean, if I thought Mr. Thompson fawned over you, it’s  _ nothing _ in comparison to his reaction to Mr. Briar’s presence at that meeting.” Winnie hugs herself tighter. “I’ve never seen a teacher so ecstatic over a guest under the age of twenty-five like that; the man wouldn’t stop talking about him during or after the meeting. . .”

Winnie starts to shovel her things into her bag, jaw clenched shut. Rebecca continues, finally reaching her desk and looking at Winnie from over her shoulder.

“Perhaps you’re jealous?” she asks, and the pen Winnie was holding snaps in her hand. Both girls watch as the red ink spills past her fingers.

After a beat of silence, Winnie swallows, and she swings her bag over her shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me, Miss President. I need to get to tutoring.”

“You’re excused,” Rebecca says, turning away. “And this time, don’t worry about the cleaning bill. I’ll take care of it.”

But before she can even finish her sentence, the student council room’s door slams shut, hard enough to make her wince. With a loud, strong sigh, Rebecca starts going through her drawers for one last check, and in her other hand, sending a fast message to the headmaster’s office about cleaning the ink.

“It’s a good thing I always keep a backup planner in my room,” she says with resignation. “I could’ve sworn it was in this drawer, though, but at least  _ these _ are still here.” Reorganizing her mess, she pulls out several pairs of granny panties, satin and high-waisted underwear. Alongside them are several spare tampons, pads, and Hawthorne brand pain medications of various strengths. “So perhaps it was just my own bad luck losing it.”

When she finishes cleaning and locking up, Rebecca heads back to the dorms. The sun is setting, and the chilly fog air spreads relief through the layers of her uniform. She sighs, content. Her thoughts don’t let her remain that way for long, though. Of course she had to be left behind with Winifred of all people!

As she rounds the corner and makes sight of the dorm’s front entrance, two figures run out of the surrounding back woods, and she squints in an attempt to get a better look. One is blond, clutching what seems to be a hat, a bra, and a chained something-or-other. The other, however, has distinctly grey and white hair, olive skin, and a stockier body than his beanpole of a companion.

When Rebecca realizes where they’re headed, her heart briefly stutters, and she, too, runs full speed towards the back of the girl’s dorm building. As she gets closer, she can see the looks on their faces. Jonny is worried shitless, but it cannot match the raw concern of Thanatos’ own expression. It’s the most she’s seen come out of him. 

Her legs push harder to catch up.


	12. Case One - Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys finally put the bra to good use, and so we get a fun adventure in the woods. well, maybe fun isn't the right word?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Black Lives Matter. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Please, everyone stay safe and healthy, and let's work hard to do right by those facing injustice. https://blacklivesmatter.carrd.co/ https://blacklivesmatter.com/
> 
> Due to stresses both personal and worldly, I've skipped updates the past few weeks. We should be back on track though, and I'll do my best to place catch-up. In the meantime, I urge everyone to support black businesses, take appropriate precautions when protesting, and stay informed on current situations. The fight must not stop.

“Is it almost done?” Jonny pesters, peeking over Thanatos’ shoulder. “Also, has anyone told you you’re really good with your hands?”

Thanatos, on his knees and hunched over their dorm’s coffee table, handles two sets of jewelry pliers. With one in each hand, he manipulates small silver wires around the citrine in a wrap, connecting it to small decorative pieces on the top and bottom. Attached to those is a long silver chain, and at the other end is a keyring loop and tiny, cutesy keychain, a star made of lapis lazuli. The blue matches Jonny’s eyes.

He sighs for the umpteenth time. “Yes, now be quiet.”

“Yes to which part?”

Thanatos shoos him with his hand. “Both, now either sit down and stop looming or I’ll make  _ you _ be the one to grab the bra from the laundry room.”

Immediately, Jonny zooms to the other side of the coffee table and takes a seat, back straight, legs criss-cross like a kindergartener. Thanatos chuckles, small and approving, and Jonny huffs.

“Hey,” he calls. No response. He leans forward, hands in his lap, “Hey, Toasty!” Jonny flicks at the long chain. “What if it takes us somewhere crazy or like super far?”

“I doubt it will, but if so, we follow where it goes or until your magic is exhausted. Whichever comes first.” Thanatos connects the top decorative piece of the pendulum with a jump ring to the chain.

Jonny flops onto his back, and he stretches, mewling, arms out wide. “But who knows how late that’ll be! Hate to say it, but we gotta be back before curfew.” He stares long and hard at the ceiling until he hears a small hiss of pain from the other side of the table. He sits up fast. “You alright, dude?”

Thanatos nods. “Just a cut. The pendulum moved, and it made my hand slip.” He holds up his finger, and though it's similar to a paper cut in size, it bleeds. “A bandage, if you would, and then it’s finished aside from attunement.”

Jonny nods and runs to the bathroom, but when he can’t find his own first aid kid, he checks Thanatos’ side and grabs his. He rummages for a bandage and returns, choosing to ignore the overwhelming amount of unusually professional medical supplies stuffed inside the large box. Without much thought, he takes Thanatos' injured hand by the wrist and brings it forward. He applies the bandage with a one, two, and done attitude.

“All better!” Jonny laughs, and Thanatos rolls his eyes.

“So’s this.”

Holding up the citrine pendulum, Thanatos lets it swing from side to side rhythmically. Jonny tracks it without moving his head, and the comedy of it almost brings a smile to Thanatos’ face. It’s an obviously handmade thing, but it’s not half-bad looking either. There’s decorative swirls and patterns to the wire wrapping, and the orbular polished citrine sparkles in the afternoon sun peeking through their curtains. The piece on the bottom of the citrine is pointed to mimic the standard shape of a pendulum crystal.

Jonny reaches out for it, grinning wider and wider, and the citrine pulls into his hand the rest of the way. The chain slips out of Thanatos’ fingers softly. “Definitely remind me to thank Sib for this thing again.” He pauses, thinking. “And the jewelry pieces.”

“Of course,” Thanatos responds. He watches Jonny swing and twirl the pendulum delightedly.

“And thanks to you for making it!” His expression saddens a little as the citrine comes to rest in his palm. “You’re so good at everything.”

Thanatos frowns and looks down at his lap. He opens his mouth once, twice, trying to decide what to say, but in the end, he only frustrates himself further. “It’s not. . .” He sighs. “Learning to do things by hand comes with the territory, I suppose,” he decides on saying. “We make do with what we have.”

“And that includes making jewelry?” Jonny runs his fingers along the chain.

“It did for me.” Jonny looks up at him, finally. Thanatos reaches forward and takes the dangling half of the chain into his fingers. “If it’s something that Sibylla will like, I try my best to learn to make it. Plus, it’s cheaper to repair broken things or make them into something new than to buy it all over again.”

Jonny stares at him in silence, concentrating hard on the floor, and the citrine vibrates. “Sib’s here on scholarship, right?”

“Correct.”

“That must mean a lot, then, for you guys.” He scratches the back of his neck. “This school costs an assload of money. . . and the university is even worse than that, so it wouldn’t really be possible for anyone below the upper class without it.” Jonny gives a few stutters. “So, uh. . .”

Thanatos drops the chain. “Leave it be.”

Jonny nods. “Yeah, uh, okay.”

“Anyway, attunement. You did the research, right?” he prods, and Jonny stands up, heading for his desk.

“Yeah. This thing is pretty attached to me, but for the pendulum to work, I need to ask it questions.” Jonny sits and holds it out in front of him. Thanatos, much the same, sits at his own desk and watches from afar. “Plus, it’s a citrine, which is connected to happiness and purity and stuff, so if we wanna use it for dowsing, we have to have a connection to the thing or person we wanna find with a good memory or feeling tied to it.”

Thanatos watches Jonny’s hands work the pendulum. Nonchalantly, “Hopefully the bra has seen Miss Freeman through some good times, then.”

Jonny sputters and nearly drops the pendulum. He flushes. “Dude!” Pointing his finger, accusatory, he clutches the citrine like pearls. “If that was a joke, that’s not funny!”

Thanatos frowns, gives a moment of consideration, and drags his hand down his face when it dawns on him what Jonny means. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Focus.”

Regaining his composure, Jonny clears his throat and once more holds out the pendulum in front of him. He asks a series of basic questions, beckoning the pendulum for how it says yes or no or maybe so. He asks for the cardinal directions and the ones in between, and he asks it to do a sick spin. It does. It’s a rather successful attunement by Thanatos’ standards. Jonny finishes by placing it back in his palm and cheering for himself like a child proud of his new high score.

“With that out of the way, we’re losing daylight, so we should hurry and begin the dowsing session.” Thanatos reaches for his bag, and Jonny groans.

“This means I’m gonna have to carry a girl’s bra around for several hours!”

Thanatos doesn’t dignify the complaint with a response and, with a habitual flourish, dons his favourite coat heads for the door. Jonny scrambles to follow suit.

* * *

Surrounding the infamous school is an even more infamous— by the students’ standards, anyhow —forest that spans at least 0.5 square kilometers before being fenced off. Thanatos feels his gut sink when the pendant takes them in that direction, and Jonny appears to not feel much better about it.

He swirls the pendant round a few times, eyeing the trees surrounding them as they trudge forward. “We’re either going to meet demons, angry bears, or an axe murder,” Jonny whines. “I can  _ feel _ it.”

“My bets are on demons,” Thanatos casually replies, and Jonny whips around to look at him, accosted.

Jonny shakes the bra at him. “Don’t even joke about it!”

With a roll of his eyes, Thanatos gets them back on their magic-led track. The forest is massive, and while it may be beautiful when looked upon from the always trimmed grass of the school’s campus, it’s easily as dangerous as any other forest once inside. If they’re not careful, he knows they could get lost, even  _ with _ Jonny’s pendulum. Being in here after nightfall isn’t even an option to consider.

At the very least, they’re in casual clothes, not risking their expensive uniforms. Thanatos has his coat over a dark purple turtleneck crop top, black high-waisted pants, and combat boots that zip up the back. Across his waist is a belt with a circular buckle and across his shoulder is his messenger bag. Jonny, on the other hand, wears a large black jacket over a high-collared shirt and cross-body bag, hoodie strings tied together in a knot. Below that are hand-me-down denim pants and tennis shoes. It’s probably not the best for hiking the woods at sundown, but nonetheless, it's what they have to work with.

Also, on occasion, as Thanatos has learnt, sometimes teachers would hold carefully spectated competitions or assignments in the woodiser parts of the forest. Less dense areas and clearings make for good observations between magic and nature, so it doesn’t surprise him, but Jonny’s knack for this does. He carefully navigates tree roots and thickets like they’re nothing, and twice already, he’s stopped Thanatos from slipping down into cricks.

He does so once more with a tug to the back of his companion’s coat collar.

“I swear, if you were alone in here, you’d die.” Jonny laughs much to Thanatos’ unamusement. “It’s true!” he claims in response to the stink eye he’s given. “You’d break your ankle and sit there until you were found or eaten.”

“You assume my pride would get in the way of asking for help?”

“Am I wrong, though?” Thanatos smacks his arm away, huffing. “Yeesh, okay,  _ Rebecca _ .”

“You—!” Thanatos’ shoulders hunch, and he curls his fingers into fists, holding them at his sides in visible restraints, he takes a step back, but finds no footing as he slips down a steep ledge.

Jonny lunges forward wrapping both of his arms around Thanatos as the two tumble and cling to one another. Jonny presses his friend’s body close to his, ready to take the brunt of the fall, but Thanatos reacts quickly. Before they can hit the bottom of the rocky hill, he reaches with both hands and summons his magic through them.

Words in Greek spill from his lips in whispers, and the tree standing tall about to crack their spines in half upon impact creaks, blackens, and dies. Its trunk rots until it cracks in two at the base and falls with a deafening crash. It lands upon its side, and with good timing, Thanatos kicks his leg and plants it onto the trunk. There’s another audible but lesser crack, and he bites instinctively into his own lip to muffle himself. At least, however, the two have finally come to a stop.

Jonny opens his squinted shut eyes, and he glances around, still gripping onto Thanatos. “Holy mother of. . .” His attention shifts immediately to the man in his arms, awkwardly tangled. “Shit, Thanatos!” His full regard and concern coagulates to the other’s presence. “Are—”

“Are you alright?” Thanatos bites out.

“A little bruised from some of the rocks on the way down, but worry about yourself first!” Jonny eyes the leg trapping him between Thanatos and the tree trunk. “You managed to stop us?”

“The tree was dying anyway, so I forced it down lest we be snapped into a ninety degree angle.”

“You  _ forced _ it? With magic?”

“Yes?”

“That’s a big-ass tree!”

“So are you, now please let go of me.”

Jonny looks down to his hands, though still clutching his pendulum and the bra, bunching up the fabric of Thanatos’ jacket in his hands. He snatches them up and holds them high in surrender, and Thanatos attempts to move his leg off the tree, but it makes him whimper. He slaps his own hand over his mouth to prevent another when he shifts onto his rear. Jonny does much the same, leaning his back against the tree trunk with his legs out in front of him.

He tucks the bra into his bag so that he may cautiously reach for Thanatos’ leg, but Thanatos scoots back, stifling another pained noise. “C’mon, man,” Jonny pleads, and the other slowly sticks out his leg. Jonny unzips Thanatos’ boot and pulls it up. After, he rolls up the pant leg and removes the sock. He hisses.

“It could be worse,” mumbles Thanatos.

“Just because it could be worse doesn’t mean it doesn’t need to be taken care of!” He turns the ankle in his soft hands. “That second crack sound… I felt you kick right before it happened, so I bet you fractured it. Are you any good at healing magic?” Thanatos shakes his head.

“It’s. . . not my forte.”

“Okay, uh, hold on then.”

The olive skin there already swells purple and red with bruising. Another glance to Thanatos’ face, forcibly calm, reveals the sweat of enduring pain mixing with the dirt of their fall. Jonny bites his lip, frowning. He pulls out his cell phone, but when he opens the internet browser, there’s no service this far in the dense wood. He tucks it away and instead reaches to the dead tree behind them and rips off strips of bark. After, he undoes the knot of his jacket string and pulls it from the hood.

Thanatos gives him a curious squint, but he says nothing. Instead, he watches as he replaces the sock, places the four bark strips evenly around his friend’s ankle, and holds them in place by tightly wrapping the string around it and tying it in a double-knotted bow. He tucks the knot into the sock and fits the shoe back on, loosening the laces on the front enough for comfort before zipping up the back.

“Ta-da!” He gives a reassuring smile. “We should head back maybe? Get this fixed.”

“No, we’ll keep going.” Thanatos pushes up with both hands on his knee to get to his feet, and he tests his ankle. It sends sharp pains up his leg, but he ignores it as he hobbles to the tree and strong-arms a branch from its head. Jonny is quick to follow, reaching out in concern, but he steps back in shock when Thanatos wrangles the thing just fine. “I can use this to walk. Where’s the pendulum?”

“Safe and sound,” he responds. He scratches his neck while dangling the dowsing device. “We really should just head back, dude.”

“We don’t have time for that, now hurry up and lead us.” Light emerges from Thanatos’ palms and creeps down the stick in veins. The bark peels away, as do shreds of wood, to make a smooth but brittle walking stick. He hobbles up to Jonny, looking up.

A stern, determined staredown is all it takes for Jonny to cave, and he summons his magic through the pendulum again.

It takes another half an hour for them to finally reach a clearing, the citrine pendulum pulling hard at Jonny’s hand, and with a glance to the sky, the sun is beginning to set. Fall is still early, but it bleeds into winter with cool gusts of wind and grass that’s beginning to brown. Amidst it is a clean stone pathway a few feet away from the two, but it doesn’t lead back into the woods. Instead, it starts at the trunk of a large tree and travels further into the clearing, to its center.

There stands a large, olden style house, similar to that of the original academy buildings with its Victorian Era age, but without as much white paint to cover its stains. Instead, it’s a cozy, rustic thing with grey siding and brown trim, and vines trail down some sides of the house with purposeful placement. As the boys trek up the path and up the porch stairs, they see closer the rocking chairs and closed blinds, the pots of house plants covering the porch. Some even sit on the railing, greens that pine for sunlight. It smells of old wood and magic.

“This is some old storybook shit,” Jonny laughs nervously. “We— We’re not going to break in, are we?”

“Or we could just knock.”

“Right, yes. We can do that.”

Sheepishly, Jonny raps his knuckles one, twice on the front door. He waits a beat before trying again, a little louder and with more confidence. Again, however,there’s no response. He tries the knob, but it’s locked.

Thanatos tries as well, testing his magic, but no dice. “I could pick it. . . but we should try for other entrances. The pendulum is still pulling.” Glancing down, Jonny notices he’s right. Instead of the front door, the citrine reaches out for something further down the wooden porch.

Around the other side is a massive, wooden cellar door, and the pendulum, no matter which way he moves his hand, points at it with fervor. He tugs at the handles hard, even placing his foot on the wall behind it for leverage. His hand slips, and he falls on his ass, yet Thanatos leans against the wall, watching. “Also locked,” Jonny calls.

“I noticed.”

There’s no lock on it, though, and neither of them can see a sigil. At Thanatos’ instruction, Jonny summons magic to his fingers and touches the door, but nothing appears then, either.

“I could try jamming into the crack to  _ pry _ it open.” He gives it a thought before lightly bopping his fist against his palm in revelation. “Make your stick pointy! You could carve it, so make it like—” He presses his hands together to make an upside down “V” shape. “—a flathead screwdriver kinda thing.”

More wood shaves from the walking stick until it’s thin enough at the tip. “Be careful, it’s still just dead wood.” Jonny nods and begins wiggling the stick into the door crack.

Thanatos, however, continues doing what he does best: snooping. On one foot, he wibble-wobbles his way to the windows surrounding the first floor of the home. “It’s on school property,” he mumbles to himself. “Could it be a staff member’s?” Most of the windows refuse his nosey gaze, blocked by curtains or blinds. “It could be the home of the groundskeeper. . .”

He comes full circle to the window on the opposite side of the cellar from where he started, and a flush of irritation runs through his veins when he finds the damn curtains to be open. He glowers from the window, to his ankle, and back, but he leans in nonetheless to see.

It’s a kitchen space, relatively clean, ivory walls decorated with kitchen ware and family photos. He squints. Family photos? It’s hard to see the wall opposite given the distance and limited view of the curtain crack, but when a familiar face catches his eye, the glass against his forehead feels colder than before, and the chill runs all the way down his spine. He backs away.

“Jonathan!” he shouts, whipping his head around. Just as he does, Jonny’s managed to pry the door open, and holds it via stick with a victorious grin.

“Got it! See?” He gestures with his other hand into the cellar. “I did it!”

Thanatos instinctively makes a run, but he soon falls to his knees from the excruciating pain. Jonny abandons the door to tend to him, helping him up.

“Woah, dude, what’s up?!”

“This—” Thanatos wheezes. “This is—!”

The cellar doors blast back open, and breeze not cold with the season but with a force that rattles the auras in their chests rolls across the entire clearing. The doors slam shut, as does the curtain, and there’s audible locking sounds coming from the inside and outside of the house. Thanatos and Jonny share a wide-eyed, shaken glance.

“This is Headmaster Waurelt’s home,” Thanatos confesses, low, body stiffening. Jonny pales.

“Oh,  _ shit _ .” Without any hesitation, Jonny leans down and readies himself for Thanatos to ride piggyback. “Hop on, Toast.”

Thanatos knows he doesn’t have time to complain, so he hops on, nervous about his weight but pleasantly surprised when Jonny hoists him up, no problem. Abandoning the walking stick, he jogs as fast as he can back towards where they came from. There’s plenty of stops to catch his breath, but despite Thanatos’ insistence to run back without him, Jonny refuses. He pushes forward over every tree root and around every bush. He doesn’t collapse until they reach the perfectly cut green of the school’s massive lawn.

Jonny wheezes and clutches at his chest, knees hitting the ground hard, and Thanatos slides off his back. He reaches for Jonny’s back, but his hand hesitates. A beat, and he rests it gently between the blond’s shoulder blades. He gives an awkward pat, pat, pat. It earns him a tired chuckle.

“Thanks, dude.”

Eventually, they get to their feet and traverse the campus ground towards the dorm buildings. Jonny slung Thanatos’ arm over his shoulders and holds him up by the waist every limping step they take. About halfway there, they’re stopped by a song blasting from Jonny’s pants.

A phone call makes itself known from Jonny’s pocket, screen lighting up in the night air through the fabric, and startles them both. Jonny checks it, bracing himself to see the number of the school’s secretary office, but instead, both men stare at Sibylla’s face smiling at them from the call screen. Thanatos hits the answer button before Jonny can, and he sets it to speaker.

Immediately, there’s a loud slam, and the sound of glass shattering, and before Jonny can stop him, Thanatos runs full force through the pain of his ankle towards the girls’ dormitory, gritting his teeth, heart skipping too many beats for comfort. Jonny follows soon after.


	13. Case One - Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> best girl gets her own chapter and also kicks absolute ass, more at 11.

The afternoon’s sunny and warm, and Sibylla couldn’t be more thrilled to spend the lunch period with her closest friends. Her sleeve rolled up, Marshall is by her side, aweing at her improved muscle capacity, and on her other side is Angie who’s shoving her food into her mouth top-speed. The three of them lay in the courtyard just outside of the cafeteria, resting on a blanket the girls had brought from their dorm room. Even Sibylla insisted she descend from her wheelchair to sit with them on the soft, black cloth.

“Those exercises you taught me have been paying off, Mar,” Sibylla praises. Marshall shakes his head, ruffling her bangs.

“It’s only because you put in the effort.”

Angie, with her fork in her mouth, squishes Sib’s bicep. Sibylla giggles. “It definitely makes lifting myself in and out of the chair easier.” The fork is the next thing to poke Sibylla’s arm.

“We’re just lucky our shower curtain rod hasn’t broken from the pull-ups yet!” Angie exclaims. She squints at Marshall, kicking her foot out and pushing him away at his chest. “Speaking of showers, you need one! I can smell your body spray from cities away.”

Marshall feigns feint with a melodramatic gasp. He defends, “Don’t be rude, Angie, it smells good. Sibylla agrees with me, right?”

“Well. . .”

“You don’t have to agree with him, y’know!” Angie retorts, and the bickering goes numb in Sibylla’s ears. She sighs, fond gaze upon such a familiar sight. Even as Angie and Marshall continue their meaningless spat, the both grin wide, competitive, and entertained.

They’re only interrupted when a loud voice, that of Rina the secretary, blankets the entire campus via the P.A. system.

_“Sibylla Dorothy Briar to the Headmaster’s Front Desk, please.”_

Sibylla sighs and leans until her chair is in reach while the other two watch, concerned. Angie frowns, looking off in the direction of the first floor main lecture halls, but Marshall immediately jumps into action, standing, and pushing down on one side of the chair while Sibylla pull herself up by the other side’s armrest. Angie stops her with a hand to her shoulder.

“Hey, I got this, alright?”

Sibylla lowers herself back onto the blanket. She takes Angie’s hand in her own. “You don’t have to! I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything; you both should finish lunch while I go deal with it.”

Angie smiles wide and leans in until they’re almost nose-to-nose. Her hair falls to curtain the view Marshall or any passerby may have, and Sibylla tries to find where the grin Angie bares meets her eyes, but she can’t. The brown of Angie’s eyes is lifeless. She pulls her hand away slowly. “I promise it’s okay, Sib. Stay put.”

Still reaching out, Sibylla watches her friend jog off, but her stomach sinks lower and lower with every passing second. She looks at her hand and then at Marshall. He brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You good, Sib?” he asks, kneeling by her. She rests her hand in her lap.

“I think so.” For a moment, she thinks, before waving it off. “Yeah, I’m alright!” Marshall eyes her up and down.

There’s little effort in lifting her up, Marshall scooping Sibylla from under her knees and behind her back bridal-style, and Sibylla releases a surprised squeak. Her arms instinctively wrap around his neck. He shuffles to the middle of the blanket on his knees before setting her down in his lap, but her arms never let go. She sighs.

“I keep telling you to warn me before doing that!”

Marshall laughs, planting a kiss to her forehead. “Sorry, sorry.” He plants another kiss on her cheek. “But waiting until Angie’s not around makes me impatient.”

“We’ll tell her eventually,” Sibylla says.

“And your brother.”

Sibylla hums long and doubtful. “Or we could not?”

Marshall rolls his eyes.

By the time Angie returns, only 20 minutes have passed, and Sibylla has repositioned herself to sit while Marshall naps rather loudly on her lap. Angie shakes her head in amused disapproval.

“If you keep spoiling him, he’ll never be good for anything!”

Sibylla shushes her, forcing a smile. She pats the spot beside her for Angie to sit, and the redhead obliges. She rests her head on Sibylla’s shoulder.

“So,” Sibylla starts. “What did they need?”

Angie shrugs. “Nothing important. I got up there and was dismissed almost immediately!” She wraps her arms around Sibylla’s. “It was annoying, so I tried to pry, but all they said was that someone else had already claimed the thing they called you for.”

Sibylla frowns. “What thing?”

“A cell phone, apparently.”

A long sigh of relief washes over Sibylla. “Well, whoever it was, if they got their phone back, that’s good. I wouldn’t have known what to do with a stranger’s phone.” She watches as Angie tries to twine their fingers together, and Sibylla forces herself to relax.

“Agreed.”

“You were gone for a while, though. . .”

Angie snuggles closer, and the blush on Sibylla’s face betrays her quickly beating heart, pounding loud in her ears. Her chest squeezes as the rest of her body runs completely cold. Where their hands meet are cold needles pricking at her every need to run.

But she can’t.

So she doesn’t.

“I needed to use the loo,” Angie responds nonchalantly, and Sibylla nods. “Napping is so much easier when you don’t need to pee. Can’t let Marshall hog you.”

Hesitantly, she rests her head on Angie’s and settles into place, squeezing her friend’s hand. With the other, she threads it through Marshall’s dreadlocks held on top of his head by a hair tie. Marshall releases a pleased hum as the courtyard clock ticks down to next class period.

* * *

Marshall bids them both farewell, classes over and sun setting beyond the forest’s treeline, from the girls’ dorm doorway. He gives playful finger guns to Sib even as Angie ushers him out, saying something about needing ‘girl time’, but even Sibylla, from her position on the couch, can see the caution trapped in their eyes as they give each other a final passing glance. Angie shuts the door a little too harshly for anyone’s liking.

Angie, now in a short tank-top and pajama shorts, sighs and bends over in exhaustion, hand still on the doorknob. The tank top rides up her back, and Sibylla’s eyes narrow in on the black and red tree-like markings that peek from beneath. Quickly, she rushes to pull out her phone, and she snaps a picture. Her blood drains from her body, however, as the snapshot sound renders the room silent save for the ringing tension.

Angie whips around, hand on the metal doorknob clutching until her knuckles are white; she’s visibly holding herself in place. The anger shaking her joints stays there even as her expression pursues something more confused, more concerned.

“Sib?” A forced, nervous laugh. “Did you take a picture of me?” That smile is back, and Sibylla holds her phone close to her chest.

She shakes her head. “N-No, it was at the couch,” she bluffs. When Angie’s eyes narrow, she babbles further, “I was just— I was just trying to look at some of my photo album, but my finger accidentally hit the capture button instead of the gallery button and—”

Stalking forward, a cat stalking a wounded rabbit, Angie holds her hand out. “Show me.” Sibylla shakes her head. The anger creeps red up Angie’s neck until it stains her cheeks. _“Show_ me, Sibylla!” she all but growls.

Tears prick at Sibylla’s eyes as she tries to scoot her chair backwards but instead bumps into the side of the couch. “Angie. . . Angie, you’re scaring me, please stop! I promise it was an accident; I didn’t take a picture of you!” Still holding tightly to her phone, the backs of her hands wipe fervently at her eyes. “You’ve been so scary today, please stop!” A sob escapes her, and Angie retracts her hand. She kneels.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she says, attempting to soothe, but when she places a hand on Sibylla’s knee, the other jolts in place, once more trying to get away. Sibylla swats the hand away, choking on another cry. Angie huffs and stands. She bites her lip. “I’ll give us both a minute, then.”

Like before, the door slams shut, but Angie is on the other side of it now, in the hallway. Sibylla peeks out from her hands at the sound, and she takes a deep breath, using her shirt sleeve to wipe the rest of her tears and sniffles. She unlocks her phone and reviews the photo of Angie’s back, crisp in detail, and she _immediately_ texts it to her brother. She had seen Angie’s back before, confirming Thanatos’ suspicions, but she hadn’t been able to get a picture. However, instead of a silent wait for a response, a loud buzz comes from Angie’s backpack resting on the other side of the couch.

Sibylla wheels over and pulls it into her lap. She digs in every pocket until shoving her hand down the bottom of the main section and feeling something smooth, rectangular, and familiar. She sends another text with her other hand, and soon enough, the thing buzzes again. Sibylla pulls it out and tosses the bag away. Where the notifications appear on the lock screen, behind them is a picture of Sibylla from her primary school graduation, when she was only 11 years old.

The dorm’s front door locks.

“You have my brother’s phone,” Sibylla states, not bothering to look up. “Why do you have my brother’s phone?” Finally, braving herself, she sees Angie standing in front of the door. The lifeless gaze is back, and there’s no smile or brightness so indicative of Angelica Waterson to be found left there. The ease that she had breathed into Sibylla’s quaking nerves the first day of this semester vanishes. “What took you 20 minutes must’ve been trying to unlock it, right?”

Angelica runs forward, across the couch, and steps on the wheelchair wheel as Sibylla tries to maneuver herself away. She reaches for the phone trying to grab once, twice, thrice before Sibylla has the mind to push at her knee, and the stranger she once called friend topples to the side, head hitting against the corner of the coffee table and knocking off the flower vase.

Taking the chance, Sibylla takes the phones with her into the bathroom even as Angelica pushes herself onto her feet and makes chase. She wants to call her brother before remembering Jonny’s messages from this morning, and instead calls him as she makes for the shower.

She _slams_ the bathroom door and locks it just as she spies Angelica picking up the vase and launching it at her head, and it crashes against the door’s thick wood. Undoing her hair ribbon, she ties it to the knob while muttering hasty, trembling words. A spell she learnt from her brother, one to use on her room on nights he came back late and couldn’t be there, she held it tight with her magic on the rattling handle.

“Sib—”

She holds the phone between her ear and shoulder. “I’m here!” she whispers, panicked. “I’m here, please— Please, Jonny, is my brother here?”

“Yeah, but he’s top speed right now to the girl’s dorm. Are you okay?”

It takes every ounce of her to resist the ‘I’m fine’ at the back of her throat, but she shudders and pushes through. “No. I have Ato’s phone. Angelica had it.”

“What?!” Jonny exclaims, loud enough to make her wince. She eyes the shower curtain rod and the high window next to the shower at the back wall. “Sib, we’re on our way, so please just hold on!”

“Don’t!” she pleads. “I’m going to. . . Just be at my window!”

Jonny pants, and there’s the shuffling of running and trampled grass. She focuses on it like a lifeline as she pushes up her pajama sleeves, gets as close to the window as her chair will let her, and pushes herself up on the windowsill until she can grab at the shower curtain rod just above the bathtub. With one trembling, desperate arm, she hoists her full body weight until she’s level with the window.

Her fingers can barely unlock the damn thing despite it being a normal latch, but for some reason, right now, it’s the hardest simple thing she’s ever had to do. Minutes feel like forever until she forces the window up and leans to see outside it.

Lo and behold, her brother, limping, and his friend, clearly exhausted, break for her window. But her muscles are screaming, _burning_ . Her fingers slicked with sweat begin to slip on the metal rod as she mumbles ‘please’s and ‘hurry’s through the phone as if praying. She even feels her magic at the door tested by Angelica’s banging, shaking, and yelling. It sounds like her friend, but it’s _not_.

“We’re here!” Jonny shouts, and Sibylla chucks Thanatos' phone out the window as hard as she can, as fast as she can. Much like her ribbon falling from the knob, she falls from her hold and slides unceremoniously into the ceramic tub below.

Groaning, she mumbles, “At least it was legs first. . .” even as her body vies for air.

The bathroom door is thrust open and Angelica rushes in, skidding onto her knees by the tub, and she helps the helpless Sibylla sit upright. All Sibylla can do is watch her own body be pulled out of the tub a little roughly and onto the tile floor. Angelica apologizes the entire time, even as she sits in front of her frightened roommate.

“Sibylla, are you alright? Hurt?” Both of her hands reach forward, and in the moment, Sibylla believes Angie to be herself again. She shakes her head. “Please, at least let me check; you fell so hard!” There’s no response, not even a glance, but there’s also no resistance.

Angie pushes up Sibylla’s ankle-length skirt, getting a full view of thigh-high sock-clad legs and boxer brief underwear. She doesn’t linger on it, instead focusing on the blackened flesh of what she _can_ see of Sibylla’s bare thighs. Angie pries at the band of one sock, but seeing Sibylla wince and shut her eyes so tight pulls her away. She replaces the skirt to cover them.

“N-Nevermind, I’ll take your word for it.”

The air tastes like salt and metal, and to cut it, a lumberjack’s axe would be needed before even a _dent_ could be made. The silence makes it even harder. Angie tries to make eye contact, but Sibylla remains persistent in her avoidance. She rests her palm against Sibylla’s cheek.

“Where’s the phone, love?”

Finally, a glance, but Sibylla’s eyes are cold. “Is that all you care about?”

Angie hesitates. “No, but I. . .” She sighs and scoots closer to hold her friend’s face in both of her hands. “I admit to it, that I took your brother’s phone, and I’m sorry for reacting so violently.” Her brown eyes water. “But your brother, he— He recorded me doing something that I couldn’t get out, and I _needed_ to delete it before he could get to it.”

“Recorded?” Angie nods.

“I. . . Well, I’ll be honest because it’s you, but recently another. . .” She trails off, looking anywhere but at Sibylla as if searching for something. “Another _student_ and I had sex in a classroom the other day, and just before then, your brother was at the door I was going to meet the guy at.” She shakes her head mournfully, and her hands slip to the other’s shoulders. “I have class there first thing in the morning, and when I got there, I saw another kid taking a cell phone to the lost and found, and I could _feel_ it, Sib, like how you do.”

Sibylla nods along, pulling Angie into a hug, but her attention is on the glass in the doorway. Angie tightens her grip and settles into Sibylla’s lap in a full embrace. “I believe you.”

“You do? Truly?”

“I do. I mean, it must’ve been scary, but please don’t _ever_ do that to me again.” Her grip on Angie’s shirt grows tighter. She can feel the veins underneath against the skin of her knuckles. “You _don’t_ get to take your _shit_ out on me.”

Angie pulls away, pathetic like a guilty puppy. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“And I threw the phone outside. I heard it shatter when it hit the ground, so your secret is safe anyway.”

Lit anew, a smile blossoms on Angie’s features, and Sibylla can’t help but sigh in relief. “Oh, that’s great news!” She laughs awkwardly. “Well, maybe not for your brother, but it definitely makes things easier, protects his secrets too considering his line of work.”

Angie helps her friend back into her wheelchair, and she pushes her out to the living area, avoiding the glass, before stopping next to the couch, where this whole thing started.

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” Angie reaffirms.

“Then. . .” Sibylla watches her hands, flexes her fingers, smooths out her skirt. “I want pizza.” She’s hugged from behind tight and fond.

“Can do! And once I get everything cleaned up, we can move on, right?” Angie pulls away but lingers at the back of Sibylla’s neck. “It’ll be like tonight never happened.”


	14. Case One - Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and we're back! i've built up a small buffer by now, so more breaks should be minimal. thanks for the wait! anyway, uh, welcome to things hit the fan. oops.
> 
> WARNING(s): graphic depictions of death including blood, injury, etc.
> 
> UPDATE: Fixed a missing thing in the third to last paragraph! Very important!

Thanatos launches himself to catch the phone, and the front of his form skids unceremoniously against the neatly-cut grass. Rebecca herself skids to a halt at the sight of Jonny on his knees gasping for breath and Thanatos curled into a ball, clutching the device to his chest. She opens her mouth to berate them, ask them what in the world they think they’re doing, but Jonny rushes to cover her mouth with his dirty hands. She tries to pry them away to no avail.

“They’ll hear you.” Jonny whispers. He releases her at her next pull.

“Who?” she asks just as low.

“This isn’t the place to answer that,” Thanatos mumbles, attempting to stand, but he soon crumbles. He whimpers and bites his lip to muffle it. Rebecca approaches and kneels with grace. She smoothes out her skirt.

“You’re injured.” It’s less concern and more matter-of-fact, an acknowledgement. “I can fix that.” He eyes her scrutinously. She pushes him back onto his rear. “Which one?”

Thanatos turns his head sharply in defiance. “Left,” Jonny speaks up, and he receives a mean side-eye as thanks.

“Jonathan!”

Rebecca takes the left ankle into her hands. She smiles in pride. “This one, huh?” She tests it, and Thanatos falls onto his back and grips the grass, taking in a deep, pained breath. “I can fix it, but why should I? You’ve been awfully rude to me so far, Mr. Briar. . .”

“C’mon, Rob, now’s not the time for this.” Jonny gives his best puppy-dog eyes, but she doesn’t budge.

“No, no, it certainly is.” She presses harder, and Thanatos groans. “I want an apology. If he says he’s sorry, I’ll fix his ankle well enough until he can see the school’s doctor.”

The air goes silent, and both Rebecca and Jonny stare expectantly at Thanatos. The man in question breathes in, out, in again in shaky beats. He glances from Sibylla’s shut window to the phone in his hand. He glances at Jonathan and Rebecca. He finally lands on his ankle. Leaning up, he braces himself on his elbows.

“Well?” Rebecca prods. Eventually, Thanatos’ hard, defiant stare softens in begrudging resignation.

“I’m sorry for my rudeness and for hurting you,” he starts. It’s incredibly soft-spoken, and Rebecca has to lean in to hear it. She smugly notes the way his face blushes deep in his rotting friendly-fire to his pride. “I also apologize for putting you in danger. If it were entirely up to me, I would have done this alone without all the extra _trouble.”_

She rolls her eyes and harrumphs. “Oh, Thanatos, that was so close, but you _had_ to ruin it, didn’t you? Trouble, you call us.” She lifts the ankle higher. “Whatever, it’s close enough.”

With gentle breath, she lets the magic from her core, white through and through, wash through her bones in waves, caressing her nerves and skin until it reaches the very toppiest-tips of her fingers. That same soothing soaks through Thanatos’ boots, the makeshift splint, and his olive skin.

_“Leniter emantur ligna carnem.”_

The relief the minor healing spell brings him has him flat on his back again until sharp pain briefly holds his broken ankle hostage. He’s quick to bite into the palm of his thumb, tasting dirt on his gloves. There are cracks like the pops of fire as the bones mend themselves into their proper place. It’s not as temporary a solution as a splint made of dead wood and hoodie strings, but it’ll be enough for now. Rebecca drops the ankle without care as soon as she finishes.

Thanatos sits up and tests it with a few rolls. It’s certainly sore, but it’s usable. “Not bad,” he mumbles. Jonny helps him to his feet.

“It’s not bad at all considering the damage you did to it!” she whisper-yells at him. “What kind of idiot runs on a broken ankle?”

“Takes an idiot to know an idiot.”

Rebecca gasps. “You apologize for insulting me only to insult me further!”

Both Rebecca and Jonny watch with widening eyes as he smiles, small and real, and attempts to hide it behind his hand. It even reaches the corner of his eyes. “You’re just too easy to tease.” He shakes his head, and the moment passes sooner than it came. He holds up his phone, screen now with a few more cracks than before. “Let’s go to the clubroom.”

“It’s night!”

“Hasn’t stopped us before,” Jonny says.

And so they cautiously approach the main school building, careful to avoid any of the night watchmen. Checking his phone, Thanatos notes it’s a little after 8 o’clock, well after the buildings close for the night and less than an hour until the weekday curfew. The clubroom is on the second floor, so Rebecca had insisted she run into the girls’ dorm to grab her broom. With that in hand, she flies up to the club room’s window and, pulling two bobby pins out from her hair, picks the window’s lock. Once inside, she sends the broom for the boys, and they’re ceremoniously brought in and lowered to the small amount of free floor space they have. The window shuts quietly with a wave of Thanatos’ fingers.

The trio hastily moves to the table and stares at the phone in the center. Thanatos unlocks it and pulls up the voice recording. Jonny swallows; Rebecca braces herself. Thanatos nods at them before pressing play.

At first it’s just the sound of Thanatos placing the phone and shuffling away, but then it quickly focuses on the voices inside the classroom. The first is Mr. Thompson.

“You look lovely as ever, Ms. Waterson.”

The girl in question, Angie, laughs like a spring breeze. “I’m just in my uniform! You say this every time, regardless of how I look. I’m starting to think you’re just messing with me.” Her words are accusatory, but her voice carries hardly any malice. Footsteps and the sound of clothes shuffling.

“I can’t help it,” he says. “Not with you.” All three of the listeners feel their stomachs drop.

“This is so gross,” Jonny mumbles, and Thanatos tells him to shut up.

Angie kisses something skin or other before there’s a distinct thud upon the floor. Then another. She releases a loud, annoyed groan.

“This old man never learns, does he?” she asks. Her voice carries none of its usual cadence, instead opting for bluntness and cool. It carries an age with it that doesn’t suit a teenage girl. More footsteps until they cease much closer to the phone. A knock.

Muffled, a soft but masculine voice asks, “Can- Can I come out now?”

“Yes, dear, he’s out and dreaming.”

A door creaks open, and Thanatos figures it’s the closet at the back of the classroom. Another set of footsteps joins Angelica’s as they move back towards the front.

Angelica scoffs. “Time and time again, and he never suspects a thing.”

“He’s definitely creepy.”

“True, but it works to our advantage. What doesn’t is that pesky detective. I’m certain he has the student council president under his thumb as well,” she laments. “We need to be more careful.”

The boy sighs. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Angelica taps something repetitively. “It’s not your fault. No need.”

“Then what do we do? You know I’m not strong enough to slow it down or erase it.” He’s pacing, certainly, by now. “And none of the other girls fit, not close enough, not for you. We could always try a different type—”

“Absolutely _not.”_ Angelica asserts harshly. He whimpers and stops in his tracks. “Whilst I appreciate the thought, I refuse to live on not looking like myself as much as possible.”

“I. . . I understand. I’m sorry.”

She sighs. “It’s quite alright; you were just being considerate. You still apologize far too much, though.”

“I’m sorry!”

Angelica groans. “Whatever. Just do the best you can, and _don’t_ interact with that Briar boy if you musn’t. Or any of them for that matter. You’re mine and mine alone, understand?”

He shudders. “Of course, ma’am.”

“And you’ll get your reward for helping me as soon as he leaves.” There’s more shuffling. “I didn’t get this far only for it to be for nothing. _They_ stole my life from me once, and I won’t let them do it again. Lay low for now and leave everything to me; you’ll act when I say.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They can hear the smile in her voice. “That’s my good little necromancer. Now leave me. I need to wait this out, and I don’t want you getting caught.”

He rushes to the door opposite of the phone. “Please, Miss Estelle, if you need anything—”

The recording ends mid-sentence.

All three now sit slumped and dumbfounded in their seats, processing. Thanatos stares at his phone, Rebecca at her hands, and Jonny at the ceiling. Thanatos takes his phone back and duplicates the recording several times just in case.

“Who’s Estelle?” Jonny asks, finally breaching the unsettling tension. Thanatos and Rebecca both shrug. “And the dude?”

“I have no idea, but he sounds. . . familiar,” Rebecca replies.

“Right? Same here, but I can’t quite put my tongue on it.”

Thanatos huffs. “The saying is ‘finger.’”

“Whatever, man, you get the point.”

Rebecca buries her face in her hands. “Nonetheless, we can confirm Angelica isn’t Angelica but actually this ‘Estelle’ person, yes?” Thanatos nods. “And she’s the one responsible.”

“The chances are significantly high. If she’s possessing Angelica, then it’s safe to say she’s also possessed the other two girls, Dottie and Kelcey.” Thanatos scratches his neck. “And whoever this other person is, he’s involved as well.”

“So she’s, like, a ghost?” Jonny presses.

Thanatos bites his lip. “I. . . I don’t know.” Rebecca and Jonny share a worried look. He continues, “I don’t know what she is, but she’s capable of carrying such a powerful curse and leaving a trail of bodies behind, and if he’s a necromancer, he’s helping her move from body to body lest she disappear or pass on.”

“That’s super. . .”

“Horrifying,” Rebecca finishes for him.

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for the umpteenth time that evening. Just when one attempts to speak up, they immediately shut their mouth. This goes on for moments that feel like double their weight, unsure of what to say or do or even think. Even Thanatos, mighty detective he knows he is, simply plays the recording back in his head on loop.

“He sounds young,” he says softly. “Naive, unsure of himself. A student.”

The other two look up at him. He rises to his feet.

“We’ll look for him. I’ll think of something, so. . . So let’s sleep on it for the night.” Jonny stands too, then Rebecca.

She tucks some of her hair behind her ear. “We’ll definitely be better minded.”

“Agreed, dude.”

She frowns. “Don’t call me dude.”

“Sorry. Agreed, dudette.”

Rebecca huffs. “And about Estelle?”

Thanatos looks Rebecca dead in the eyes and holds her still as such. “For now, _absolutely nothing_. We’re going to leave her be until I have a plan.”

“But—!”

“No buts, Ms. Hawthorne, you’ll do as I say lest you wish to have our lives at stake more than they already are. This isn’t pish-posh truancy or a silly playground fight; this is a dangerous form of magic and scheming unlike any you’ve seen, and you know that very well by now.” He leans in closer towards her, over the table. “Do absolutely _nothing_ until I say so.”

Rebecca stares back at him just as hard, but she crosses her arms and nods. “Fine.”

He breathes out a sample of his exhaustion before heading to the window. They leave much like they entered and retreat to their dorms aching. Jonny and Thanatos big Rebecca good night as they leave her at the girls’ dorm front entrance, and she makes quick work of retreating to her large, two-person room home to one.

It’s lavishly decorated in hand-crafted, expensive finery. Everything’s been customized to suit her needs, but the comfort of it passes over her entirely. She makes quick work of her clothes and shoes and even quicker work of her hair. It falls long and layered against her bare back as she flings her sports bra into her hamper and grabs for a night gown from her dresser. The fine silk, at leasts, helps her ease some.

She turns all of the lights off save for that of the bathroom, and she turns on the television to one of those old rerun channels. The show is in black and white, a two-century old classic, and she smiles at the episode as she mouths along to the lines. An excitable housewife constantly getting into trouble to the exasperation but love of her bandleader husband. It’s a cute something from the 1950s.

Rebecca makes tea in the dark before settling on the couch to enjoy herself after a long day. She refuses to rest on a bad note; it’s not good for her complexion. It’s soured fast, though, when her phone buzzes, and she gets a text from Angelica.

_‘Can’t make committee meeting tomorrow, sorry! Emergency came up!’_

Her anger flares, and she sets the tea cup on its saucer calmly before throwing her phone into the other side of the couch with all of her strength. She kisses her teeth at it and squints. Another buzz to notify her of the text, and she scrambles to unlock it.

Thanatos is a fool for letting her get off the hook for now. If he won’t do something, she will. This girl is a _murderer_. It’s idiocy to watch as she continues to threaten this school.

Do absolutely nothing, Rebecca’s _ass_ . How dare he _order_ her.

 _‘Emergency? The only emergency you have coming is a jail sentence, Miss Estelle.’_ She types. _‘We know what you’re doing, and I’m not going to let you get away with it, not on my own life. Leave Angelica alone and leave this place, or else.’_

Rebecca stares at the message. Briefly, her thumb hovers over the backspace key, but she closes her eyes instead and hits send. She turns her phone off before she can make a reply and once more throws it to the other side of the couch. She finishes her cup of tea, enjoys the remainder of the episode, and then promptly crashes into her king-sized bunk bed with 10 mg of melatonin coursing through her.

She’s consumed in sleep by the silk against her body, the high thread-count keeping her warm on top, and the down feather pillow cradling her weary head beneath.

* * *

Sleep is all well and good until she’s woken up by her blaring alarm. Rebecca hobbles down from her bed, promptly hits the snooze button on her digital alarm clock, and proceeds to the bathroom. It’s her usual routine of showering, brushing her teeth, doing hair, doing makeup, etcetera. She covers every hint of acne with concealer, and she hides extra bobby pins in her hair.

It comes time for her to dress before breakfast, and halfway through, she hears an absolute ruckus outside her door. Slipping on her shoes, she opts for the uniform sweater instead of vest and coat for time’s sake, but before she exits, she is sure to carefully attach her student council armband.

Rebecca opens the door to find more girls of her hall, some still in their pajamas to her dismay, rushing down the hall to the lobby. She frowns and pulls one aside.

“What’s the meaning of this?” She asks, gesturing to all the commotion.

“I don’t know!” the girl exclaims, a little spooked. “But we got told something super freaky happened at the fountain, and that we should just see it for ourselves.”

Rebecca lets her go, and she shakes her head at the way she rejoins her friends for more gossip. Regardless, she should see what it’s about, she figures, so she grabs her phone, wallet, and keys for the road and tucks them in her skirt pocket after locking her door.

She follows the gaggle of students all the way to the courtyard fountain, where dozens of early birds and tired worms alike gawk in chilling horror at the bloody water and the two bodies that float lifelessly there. Rebecca swallows and pushes forward, ushering students to stay back. They don’t need to be told twice.

“Hawthorne!” Thanatos calls from just behind her. She turns around slowly. Thanatos and Jonny, both still in their sleep clothes jog towards her. Thanatos is in an awful punny t-shirt and black boxers. Jonny is in a proper matching pajama set, dark blue.

“I—” She clams up, unable to finish, and she turns away from the scene. Thanatos ushers her into Jonny’s arms as he moves past, and for the time, she allows the opportunity to hide.

Thanatos kneels on the wide rim of the white, marble fountain. The water has long since stained red with blood, so much so it outdoes the vibrance of the ginger hair bathing in it. Two bodies, one male and one female, rest with their backs facing upwards in the base layer of the 10 foot diameter fountain. Their hands are tied together with a men’s tie. It’s ample room for them to lay. It’s ample room for him to join them.

He pries off his flats and lets them fall to the ground, and then he steps into the murky water without hesitation. Most of the students gasp and whisper in response; some even gag. He pays it no mind even as he feels all the coins beneath his toes.

Thanatos turns the female body over enough to see but not enough to disturb where they are connected, and sure enough, Angelica Waterson breathes no more. He checks for a pulse, just in case, but there’s nothing. He turns her back over and hikes up her shirt to check her back. “Incomplete branching,” he notes. “But they’re bleeding into the water. Angelica Waterson, age 16, deceased from curse infliction.”

He moves onto the other body. Perhaps. . . No, it isn’t. “Ecker Thompson, age 37, deceased from. . .” He eyes lower, to the ligature marks around his neck. “Deceased from, most likely, asphyxiation. No obvious signs of other trauma or bleeding.”

With every word, no matter how quiet he’s being, the students grow more panicked. The student council, save for Rebecca, get to faster work influencing them away from the scene, even as they’re barraged with questions. Quite a few are crying, and they’re offered handkerchiefs by council and peers alike. Jonny tries to urge Rebecca into action, but she remains perfectly shellshocked.

He looks back and forth from the girl still against his chest to the scene behind him. “Rob, if— Dude, you gotta do something? Ah, crap, I’m sorry.” He leaves her be to take charge, moving from student to student to answer anything he can. He reassures them, comforts them, tells them to head back to those willing to budge. He even extends this to the exhausted student council members, just as unsure as the students they’re supposed to lead. Rebecca never moves.

She listens, though, to Thanatos’ investigation.

Thanatos unties their hand and sets the tie on the fountain rim. Above water, he unfurls Mr. Thompson’s incredibly tight fist as Angelica’s falls limp with a splash back into the red. Inside is a note kept mostly dry with only some wet edges. It’s crumpled but legible as he unfolds it.

The more of it he reads, the angrier he gets; the paper shakes in his hands. He can’t even finish it before he folds it neatly and sets it, too, on the ledge. Taking a deep breath, he sits Mr. Thompson’s body upright, lets it lean against the second tier of the fountain, and he leans in very close to inspect further. 

Rebecca watches closely the way Thanatos whispers something into Mr. Thompson’s ear. She watches closer the way Mr. Thompson seems to whisper back before Thanatos pulls away and acts as if nothing happened.

“Hawthorne, we need to—”

A loud whistle catches everyone’s attention. Barbara Waurelt herself stands in front of the fountain and its contents, Thanatos included, with a bright silver whistle in her mouth. She tucks it away once all eyes are on her, and none of the students are foolish enough to let that linger any longer than necessary. She clears her throat.

“All students back to your rooms. _Now!_ ” she yells in command. She’s seething, livid, and booming, and everyone rushes away. She points to Jonny and Rebecca. “Greenwell and Hawthorne, stay put!” They do immediately, but Rebecca gets bumped into by someone- a boy, she thinks, short with brown hair -who mutters something fast, and leaves before she can turn around.

She whips around to Thanatos, caught with red hands and redder legs. The bandages on his arms are stained now, too, with it. The icing on the cake is the way he no longer shakes with anger and instead remains just as still as the corpses at his feet.

“ _You_ .” She points sharply at the ground. “Get out of there, immediately. I want all three of you in my office for a good, long _talk_.”


	15. Case One - Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> haha. hahahaha. hahaha. :)

Thanatos is still sopping wet with red fountain water, dressed in his sleepwear, and standing barefoot on the white tile of Mrs. Waurelt’s office. Likewise, Jonny stands next to him absolutely shivering from nerves, and Rebecca is still and staring off into the void. Mrs. Waurelt herself is now sitting at her desk, furiously tapping her pen, and she glares the three of them down.

“I  _ thought _ I warned you, Mr. Briar,” she scolds in ice. Thanatos swallows his nerves down, but they don’t wish to stay there.

“You did, and I completely abide by our contract, but ma’am, I had no idea this would occur.” He steps forward with a squelch. She waves her hand, and the water dissipates. “I knew, with most certainty, that I still had time!”

Jonny puts a hand on his shoulder. “Contract? What contract?”

Thanatos tries to speak, but nothing comes out, so Mrs. Waurelt sighs and relents the answer herself. “Mr. Briar and I had a contract agreement regarding his work here.” She watches Thanatos’ hands shake. “During his investigation, no one outside of he, myself, and Ms. Hawthorne were supposed to know of and be involved in this.” Jonny bites his lip. “Your involvement is strike one, Mr. Greenwell.”

“Uh oh.”

“Strike two is this morning’s incident. No preventable deaths, no public knowledge, nothing of the sort.” At her words, Rebecca folds her arms tight, as if hugging herself. “God forbid the press get ahold of this mess; the school will be in ruins.”

“Mrs. Waurelt, I-” She interrupts Thanatos with a hand.

“Strike three is you’ve put both Mr. Greenwell and Ms. Hawthorne in excess danger. That could have easily been them in the fountain today.” The three youngsters remain dead quiet, and she sighs. “You must be so eager to reveal you’re a-”

It’s his turn to interrupt her with a loud, desperate cry,  _ “No!” _ He slams his hands on her desk. “You may threaten me all you want, but you know what that will do to Sibylla even without your  _ other _ conditions!” He slides forward the note he found in the bodies’ hands.

“What is this?” she asks. He nods at it until she takes it.

“According to this note, it was a double suicide.”

Rebecca clasps her hand over her mouth and turns away. Jonny is quick to, once more, hold and comfort her, and she lets herself despite her better judgement. He keeps her tight against him.

Thanatos continues, rushed, “No one knows about the other two, no one  _ has _ to know about them until the time agreed, like we discussed!” His fists clench, knuckles turning white. “Use this note however you see fit, but I have  _ not _ broken our contract. Charm and wit, discreetness, every tool I have has been used in this case thus far, and there was no sign of this happening to me at all, let alone as a result of my own actions!” He’s bullshitting. They all know he’s bullshitting, but Mrs. Waurelt looks him deep in his eyes and sees the dark circles, sees the wetness.

“Fine then.”

“What?”

“I said it’s fine, then. I have no reason to disbelieve you, so we’ll just use this as our out. You’re safe, and your sister is safe.” She tucks the note into her desk and pulls out several blank letterheads. “Do you. . .” She hesitates. “Do you believe this to be the truth?”

“Honestly?” he asks. She nods. “No, this. . . This doesn’t line up with anything else. I urge you to allow my continued presence.”

Mrs. Waurelt doesn’t look up at him as she writes. “Do you as you see fit. Dismissed.” She throws the door open with another wave, and the trio make no time rushing out.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Thanatos collapses to his knees, and Jonny and Rebecca barely manage to catch him. He’s wheezing, shallow and quick, and his limbs tremble furiously. His ears ring or buzz or both; it’s so hard for him to tell as his vision grows cloudy with tears.

“I- I don’t understand,” he mutters. “I don’t understand where I messed up? Did I mess up? I don’t-”

He continues like this, and no matter how hard they try, his friends can’t seem to lift him or get him to respond. Rebecca wipes furiously at her own tears and proceeds to lift him, with Jonny’s help, onto her back. Thanatos resists at first, but he soon after clings to her tightly.

“Where to?” Jonny asks, unsure.

“We should check on Sibylla,” Rebecca suggests, and Jonny agrees.

“By God, Ato, what happened?!” Sibylla says as she opens her door, and he finally lifts his head. She wheels out of the way and towards the sofa, and after they all shuffle in, Jonny is the one to close the door. Rebecca finally sets him down, and Thanatos wobbles.

He looks down at his sweet baby sister, and though he’d managed to hold his tears back, the last of his restraint vanishes. Thanatos lets them overflow, and biting his lip, he throws himself at Sibylla’s lap and chest. He holds onto her as if she is his life, and in all honesty, she might be. She runs her hands through his hair gently, even as he pulls back and forces himself to stop crying.

“Sib, please, tell me, are you hurt? Threatened?” He holds her face. “Yesterday sent me into a panic, and today worse so, so  _ please _ .”

Sibylla smiles, warm, and she nods. “I’m okay. Nothing unusual, especially now that. . . Anyway, well, I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“I didn’t know you cried,” Rebecca jests, twirling her hair with her finger. “A genuine surprise.”

Thanatos rolls his eyes and stands. “I’m human. Humans cry.” He rubs his face.

“Is that what you are?”

Both Sibylla and Thanatos still entirely. Jonny scratches his neck. “I wanted to, uh, ask that too, I guess. About what Mrs. Waurelt meant earlier.”

“Not to mention what I saw you doing in the fountain with Mr. Thompson.”

Sibylla takes her brother’s hand and squeezes. They share a glance, and she nods. “At this point, it’s probably okay?” she says.

“No, it’s not,” he responds. “I can’t tell you.” He looks Rebecca and Jonny in the eyes. “Yet. Maybe when this is all over, but not now, but know it’s enough that my life aside, it’d destroy Sibylla’s future, and I can’t let that happen; I  _ won’t _ let that happen.”

Jonny reaches out. “Toasty, you can trust us! Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

“It’s not a matter of trust. Mrs. Waurelt is right; I’ve put you both in too much danger as it is.” Thanatos fidgets. “I should’ve been more adamant about working alone, then this wouldn’t even be an issue! My personal life would only make it worse for you both, so leave it be.”

Rebecca huffs. “You keep telling us to just leave things be and wait around and do nothing! You order us around and around to do whatever you want, so the least you owe us is some answers!”

“I don’t owe you anything after that apology yesterday.”

“You apologized?” Sibylla gasps, and when Thanatos slaps her wrist, she giggles. It pulls a smile from him.

“Nonetheless, Hawthorne, you’re not entitled to my life.” He points to himself. “You’re not entitled to anything but your trust fund. Patience is crucial, including with people, and the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”

She wipes at her eyes again. “Big talk for Mister Anti-social.”

“I don’t have to be Jonny to understand human interaction.”

“Hey!”

“I don’t have to be good at it either to understand patience. Impatience gets people killed.” His eyes narrow. “Just like it did this morning.”

The room succumbs to a brief hush quickly broken by Jonny. “We could, um, look on the bright side, though?”

“That being?” Rebecca and Thanatos ask at the same time. They share a look and seem to ease up a little. Thanatos offers a small smile and waves in dismissal.

“You know the suicide thing is wrong, and since Mr. Thompson wasn’t involved in the murders besides, well, the scapegoat, it means we can narrow things down, doesn’t it?” He vaguely gestures with his hands. “Angie. . . Angie may be dead, but that means Estelle must have moved onto someone else, and we still have our list of people from earlier that we can just go through again! As long as we find her and our mystery boy, everything will be okay!”

Thanatos nods. “You’re right, there’s not many places she could go, and now that everyone is aware of something shady here, people are on guard.”

“Tracking a student must surely be easier than tracking a murder ghost,” Rebecca adds. “But how do we track down one of over 300 boys?”

“Could always call Jack to do his tech magic,” Sibylla offers, and Thanatos hums.

“I could, certainly.”

“Jack?” Jonny asks.

“A friend.”

“Sure he is, brother.”

Thanatos flushes and, once more, swats her wrist. “I’ll give him a call, but if not, I have some ideas of my own.”

Sibylla tucks some hair behind her ear. “Anything is better than nothing, brother.” She sniffles. “Anything to help keep Angie and the others at ease; they didn’t deserve this.”

Jonny pats her head. “Angie wasn’t always like this, right?” She shakes her head.

“When we first met, she was wonderful. I thought I’d finally made a true friend.” She pulls out her phone. “I can show you, if you want; I have so many videos and memories.”

Sibylla plays a few, but about halfway through the third one or so, Rebecca excuses herself politely. The grin on Angie’s freckled face, the happy bounce of her hair, the enthusiasm of her time with her friends. . . It’s too much for Rebecca to bear.

* * *

Rebecca is so grateful to live alone. She locks her door and breaks her usual routine by instead tossing all of her belongings aside carelessly and undressing as she approaches her full length mirror. She lets her skirt drop, picks at every button of her shirt until it joins the skirt below, discards all her jewelry to a nearby table.

“A shower sounds so nice,” she tells herself. “Much needed.” She reaches around to her back and feels for the bra hooks. They come undone easily. She closes her eyes in the sweet relief of freedom.

A breath ghosts against her ear, and she stills. Her eyes open and dart back to the mirror. She gasps soft, afraid.

“Hello, dear. After your threat, I thought I’d pay a little visit.”

In the mirror, a woman of Rebecca’s height, stands behind her, leaning in. She’s beautiful, freckled, blessed with long ginger hair, and for a moment, Rebecca almost cries out for Angelica, but this isn’t her. This isn’t that once spunky, very much so alive girl. This is one who keeps one eye hidden under long bangs and her body covered in a dress that must be from decades upon decades ago. This girl wraps her arms around Rebecca’s waist.

“You’re very pretty, you know. Pretty  _ and _ smart. Not smart enough for justice, though,” the woman says, and Rebecca shudders.

“Smart enough to know who you are, Estelle.”

“Oh!” Estelle chuckles. “So that phone wasn’t destroyed after all. I had thought as much after last night, nearly gave us a fright! Thank you, by the way, for the heads up.

Rebecca whips around, but there is no one there. She’s yanked back by her hair towards the mirror, and she feels Estelle’s hands and breath again. Perhaps, rather, it’s more an imitation of breath, an old habit from living. Either way, Rebecca can’t move, and she instead feels her limbs move for her with Estelle’s unsettling gentle touch.

“Smooth skin, clean, a lovely dark shade.” Estelle raises one of Rebecca’s arms. “Quite strong, too!” She moves Rebecca’s hair again, feeling it in her fingers. “Red hair, well-maintained. You’re a very good candidate, and you get bonus points for your magic ability.”

“You- You plan to what, then? Do what you did to Angelica but to me?”

Estelle hums. “That was my initial idea. Hell, I might have even taken your body sooner, but I’ve avoided girls of other races. Doesn’t feel right, I suppose.”

“How  _ moral _ of you,” Rebecca replies, venomous. Estelle laughs.

“Think what you wish, but you have no idea what I’ve done to be here, what I’ve been through.” Hands around Rebecca’s throat. “Nothing will make me give up, and if you’re my next, so be it. That is, unless. . .”

Rebecca frowns. “Unless?” Estelle grins wide and wicked, but it doesn’t reach her amber eyes.

“Unless you help me out, then I’d have no choice but to spare you!” She spins Rebecca back around to the mirror, and she sees Estell at her side. “You see, we souls can’t exist without a body for very long in the mortal world, especially ones like me who’ve been cursed.” Her smile drops. “If you keep your detective friend from finding me, I’ll spare you and find another body and, well, I might even decide to leave the school!”

“And- And if I don’t?”

Estelle traces up Rebecca’s spine with a slow finger. “Then your body is mine.”

Rebecca’s knees buckle, and she cries out as she tries to catch herself on her mirror, but it falls and shatters. She claws at her back with unrelenting nails and panic. It burns like thousands of small, sharp knives creeping their way upwards, and then it stops. She tries to catch her breath. Estelle’s voice is right by her ear once again.

“Either way, I’ve been attached to you now by my friend,” she says. “I’m just  _ choosing _ to let you stay in control. For now.” Estelle traces the new dark, reddening branches on Rebecca’s skin. “So, do we have a deal?”

Rebecca sees herself crying in the broken mirror, and she nods and nods and nods. “Yes! Yes, we have a deal!”

“Good girl.”

When Rebecca blinks, Estelle cannot be seen in the mirror, but she knows she isn’t alone. Her presence is still there. She twists her body and feels her heart sink into her stomach at the tree sprouting from her skin.


	16. Case One - Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> local detective gets no sleep and it shows so well he gets roasted for 3000 words, more at 11!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR ABSENCE! school started again and i'm in hell

“Dude, can you turn that thing off now? It’s too early for this, and that’s coming from me,” Jonny whines from the comfort of his bed, and he covers his ears with his pillow. It’s tempting to throw it at his noisy roommate, who’s hardly slept a wink since Friday’s incident. 

Instead, Thanatos has been sitting at his desk, playing the phone recording on loop. Unlike the neat red “X” marks crossing every other date on his calendar, the past three have been furiously crossed out. Jonny surmises today’s date, when Thanatos inevitably crosses it out, will be just as frantic if the smell of excessive dry shampoo and too many cups of coffee are anything to go by. He winces when the detective’s head hits the desk far too hard.

“I’ll get it eventually,” Thanatos mutters. “Any moment now, it’ll click, and I can fix everything.” He forces himself back up, takes in a deep breath, and plays the recording again.

Dawn is only now breaking.

Jonny resigns himself and rises for the morning. It’s too early to get breakfast from the dining hall, so he opts to whip up some scrambled eggs while the coffee maker is brewing yet another pot. He sets a full bowl of it in front of Thanatos, and it’s lovingly mixed with leftover fried potatoes from the night before plus cheese and some hot sauce, and Jonny watches it hurriedly devoured. He smiles.

He brushes his teeth, straightens his hair, and swaps out his contacts. Sleeping in them never feels good, but it’s too hard to avoid Thanatos’ expert gaze long enough to leave them out. A couple of eyedrops keeps the discomfort at bay, though.

The entire time, Thanatos continues to play the recording, and every time he listens, Jonny  _ swears _ the male voice gets more and more familiar. He’s heard it somewhere! He’s certain! He drags his hands down his face. Mondays have never been good for thinking.

“You should take a nap before class, dude,” he advises as he leaves the bathroom, but when he looks up, Thanatos is still holding the fork for his eggs as his arm remains awkwardly propped up on his desk. His head is down, cradled by his other arm, and his breathing signals the blissful peace of sleep. “One step ahead. Nothing new, I guess!” Jonny takes the fork from him and covers him with a blanket.

Jonny does wake him in time for class, though, and he helps a yawning, zoned-out Thanatos get dressed and out the door. He’s paying attention enough to walk to his first class, but his mind is otherwise going over every fact, every detail he can recall.

This remains so even as he sits through class after class. It helps he knows most if not all of this high school drabble, but what isn’t helping is all the incessant noise. The teachers are too loud, and the girls in the back keep whispering. He swears he feels a boy from the brooming team magic a crumpled up letter to the boy sitting in front of Thanatos, whomst reads and promptly blushes at the thing— from what he can see, it’s an ask to the school dance. Keeping up these appearances. . . there’s hardly any point anymore, isn’t there?

The bell rings, and whatever train of thought he’d finally gotten a ticket to left the station without him. Before he can rise, he’s tapped gently on the shoulder, and his head whips around with no restraint of irritability. The boy responsible swallows almost visible nerves; he clutches a paper in his shaky hands.

Thanatos eyes him up and down. He’s a nervous thing, shaking in his shoes, and his appearance does him no favours. His dirty blond hair is in a short, messy, bowlcut with several unrestrained strands. To pair are down-turned, dark grey eyes. The boy’s skin is almost like Thanatos’ save for its slightly paler and  _ somehow _ ashier appearance. Upon his face and fingers are brightly coloured neon bandages. He blushes when he watches Thanatos’ gaze travel.

“F- For—” He speaks in trembling whispers, and Thanatos feels his jaw clench in restraint. “Um, this is— I’m—”

That restrain doesn’t last long. “Spit it out already!” he commands too harshly, and he winces at his own mistake. The boy jumps in his place, slams the note on Thanatos’ desk, and bolts out of the classroom. It earns Thanatos a few quizzical looks, but he pays them hardly any mind.

Has he been asked out as well? Not that the idea isn’t flattering, but. . .

He shakes his head.

The note isn’t as romantic or floral as that. Instead, it’s just a club room number, a phone number, and a website. Judging by the url, it’s the site for the school news; he’s well acquainted with it by now having used it for research prior to the case, and with at least one death public, being questioned about it makes sense. Getting help doing the mediocre footwork wouldn’t be so bad, either. With that idea in mind, he exits in pursuit of the news club.

* * *

The club room is rather large, especially compared to their dreadful supplies’ closet of a space. There’s plenty of desks with working students, some recognizable from his classes and others not. They type at their computers while some operate digital print presses, feeding blank tablets into the machine to download the latest article for limited physical release. He peers over the shoulder of one student to find them editing footage of something.

However, the most interesting part is the one person constantly moving around: a short young man with down-turned grey eyes and dirty blond hair, but unlike the one from before, this one’s hair is longer and kept in an incredibly tiny ponytail. He also sports no bandages, but his skin’s colour is much the same as that of the boy from before. All in all, he’s a handsome one. He notices Thanatos’ quickly, and with great ease and grace, approaches.

“Ah, the one and only detective Thanatos Briar! I assume you got my brother’s note, then?” Thanatos holds it up, and his smile grows wider. “Excellent!”

“Brothers, then? He never did give me his name, too busy stammering.”

He laughs, “Ronan’s just shy, is all; he’s bad with words.” He leans forward into Thanatos’ space, and it takes a beat for Thanatos to actually lean away. “Thanatos— can I call you Thanatos? —you look exhausted; coffee?”

Thanatos rubs at his eyes and sighs. “Actually, coffee would be lovely.” As would some peace and quiet, he leaves unsaid.

“Perfect. I’m Regan Bell, current President of the School News Office.” He gestures forward with an arm. “This way, please!”

They enter a side room reformed into a plain but neat office space, and Regan offers him a seat in front of the desk. He practically slumps into it and Ronan, bashfully, serves him a heaping cup of coffee. It takes no spare moment to down the whole thing.

Regan takes his own rightful place across from him, and he props his legs on the desk with a practiced ankle cross. He, too, accepts a coffee cup from his brother, but he instead takes his time with it.

“So, Thanatos, as the current residential school detective, it makes sense you were at the forefront of Friday’s incident!” Regan twirls his finger, and two shots of creamer open themselves and pour into his mug. “To think we had such a scandal going on at our school, well, to be frank, I had a feeling.”

Thanatos’ brow raises. “Is that so?”

“Of course! Especially that teacher, he’s always been on our radar, but the headmaster doesn’t like it when we look too hard into things outside of standard teen drama and the weekly cafeteria menu.”

“In that case, I assume you want an exclusive.” Regan’s eyes light up, and he nods. “I’ll give it to you.” The smile gets wider, brighter. “But I want something in return.”

Regan’s legs move faster from the desk to the floor than Thanatos’ could currently keep up with, and coffee would end up splashing everywhere if it wasn’t taken from his hands by Ronan with what appears to be a habitual motion. “Brilliant! A quid pro quo!” He leans on the desk, bent over like a right angle and propped up by his elbows. “What shall it be then?”

“Do I have your guarantee this is off the record?”

“Absolutely!”

Thanatos briefly glances at his empty mug. “I would like the news’ office’s assistance in solving a pesky case. I don’t have time anymore for less immediate info gathering, but if you’re as good as you act to be, then perhaps such an arrangement can be fruitful.” He sets it on the desk. “In exchange, you will be the first outlet I speak to when the case is solved and public.”

The brothers share a gaze, and while Ronan aggressively shakes his head, Regan rolls his eyes and sticks out his hand. “Deal!”

They spend a few minutes writing out details before the bell rings again, and Thanatos is promptly ushered out. Regan leaves him outside the door with a few pats on the back before shutting it. He stares at the business card in his hands, frowning.

“What a noisy fellow.” And yet. . . His spine straightens, and he runs down the hallway.

* * *

Jonny chokes on his pizza upon being grabbed at the collar and pulled upwards from his cafeteria seat. Edward and Mason frown, but they say nothing, even as their confusion turns to amusement. “H-Hey!” Jonny finally gets out. “What’s the big idea?!”

“I’m borrowing him,” Thanatos tells the other two, and they snicker in full as their friend is dragged away.

Once they’re outside, he lets go, and Jonny gives a few good coughs. “Dude! I wasn’t done yet!”

“Shut up. I have an idea regarding a lead.”

“Oh.”

“So take me to the meeting room.”

Jonny snorts and shrugs. “Whatever you say, boss.”

When they get there, Rebecca is already inside waiting for them, and she stands upon their arrival. They waste no time getting to their rightful spots, but none of them have the will to sit. Thanatos holds himself upright at the desk and forces his eyes to remain open.

“The School News Office’s President and I have stricken a deal, and we’ll be working with them from now on. His—” He shuts his mouth. No, that familiarity should be kept to himself for now, lest these two rush into something. “His brother, himself, and I will be the only ones cooperating on this for now, so don’t bother with that. They’ll be doing legwork for us while we stick to the main mission.”

Jonny cracks a hesitant smile. “That’s. . . good?”

“They're fairly adept, but how would they help us  _ now?” _ Rebecca asks, hugging herself.

Thanatos rubs at his eyes. “I can feed them false information to spread, keep the culprits on their toes. Plus, if there’s busywork needed, they can take care of it. Most importantly, though, they’re the primary promoter of this month’s premier school event: the Halloween ball.”

“Listening to that call all weekend, our mystery boy sure is weak to the ladies, so maybe that’s a good angle to work from!”

“Takes one as such to know another,” Rebecca quips. Jonny sticks his tongue out, but the mood hardly shifts, and their attempt at humour soon dies. She sighs, “But he has a point.”

“I was thinking the same,” Thanatos admits. He pulls out his phone and quickly scrolls through it. He taps one one of his contacts, and the phone begins to ring as the dial message projects itself blue and brilliant into the air. It picks up quickly, and a loud Scottish accent burns their ears.

“Ato! What can I do ya for?” yells Jack, clearly away from his phone but still loud enough to cause pain. “Not often you call me outta the blue!”

“Jackson—”

“Also, aw, are those your friends? Cute!” He finally comes back into the view, and the phone’s projector displays his face and upper body. Jack is a thin man, especially in his face, and his incredibly unkempt grey hair is kept back from his face with a headband; it leaves them all with a mad scientist image. His eyes are sharp, golden, and his hair is a dark brown. The most notable things, though, are his pointed ears and sharp fangs. Rebecca gasps.

“A vampire! A real vampire!” she mutters in disbelief. Jonny licks his own canines and frowns.

“That’s so cool,” he mumbles.

Jack gives a lazy, wide smile. He’s dressed in a white button down paired with a red and yellow flannel shirt hanging loosely around him at the elbows. He covers his yawn with his hand. “You’re sure calling me early! Lucky for you, I was pulling an all-dayer.” He leans into his camera and squints. “Speaking of you, that’s what shit looks like.”

“So I’ve been  _ told,” _ Thanatos groans. “I need your help, are you free or not?”

Jack kisses his teeth. “Afraid not, Ato. Our lovely captain friend has me working my rear off on somethin’ new lately. Only free time I have is for eatin’ and sleepin’, something you should learn.”

Thanatos flushes. “I get it! I get it!” He rubs his temples.

“Um, so,” Rebecca starts, speaking up. “Why have we called a  _ vampire _ to assist us?”

“This is that guy Sib mentioned,” Jonny adds in, elbowing Rebecca. “Jack, right?”

“That’d be me! Tell Sibby I said hello.” He sips on a red juice pouch with a little yellow straw. “Whatcha needin’?”

“Advice if not your help,” Thanatos replies. “The only solid lead we have right now is a voice, but interviewing every male student takes too much time that we don’t have, so how would you do it?”

Jack hums and starts to type rapidly. His eyes dart, looking at things invisible to the phone’s camera, but judging by the light, it’s likely his many computer screens. “While voice recognition software has been a thing for quite some time now, gathering that much data at once is tricky to get done quickly. You still use that janky old laptop?”

“I do.”

“Well, shite.” He rubs his head. “I’d send a program of mine to you, but it’d brick that thing before an error could pop up.”

“What about a wireless phone tap?” Thanatos asks. Jack shakes his head.

“Too many phones, your computer would shite itself. Again. And I’d have to fix it.  _ Again. _ ” Jack gives the biggest puppy dog eyes he can muster. “When will you let me build you a new one?”

Thanatos rolls his eyes. “That one works fine. I’ll figure something out.”

“All of those reach out to the students directly.” Rebecca walks closer to the camera, and Jack rests his chin in his hand and sips as he tracks her. “What about something that lets  _ them _ come to  _ us? _ ”

“Oh! Good thinking, redhead!” The pouch squelches and squeaks as it’s emptied, and Jack tosses it offscreen. “If you can get these students to come to you, you could record the calls at once and listen to them manually.”

“I could send them to you, instead. Faster,” Thanatos says. His expression falls, and Jonny squints. “Unless you’re too busy?”

“Aw, Ato, I swear I would any other time but this—” Jack vaguely gestures to the air. “—is the most I can do for ya right now. I’ll send you a special something to help with the cause that your shitey junk can run, a quick thing, but you’re on your own this time.” Thanatos’ expression falls further, and he sighs.

“Thank you,” he says, and Jack sends an air head pat through the projection.

“There, there! Your friends are still watching, y’know! It’s so cute but very pathetic to see you sad.”

Immediately, Thanatos flushes harder and stands up straight, flustered. Again, he rubs his eyes. “Silence. Goodbye.”

“Visit soo—”

Thanatos hangs up, and the projection dies. Jonny busts out laughing. “He called you cute! Cute! Dude!” Even Rebecca joins in with muffled, restrained giggling.

“Truly a new low for you,” she adds in. “But pathetic is right. Like a kicked dog.”

“You’re both insufferable!” he retorts loudly, and his voice cracks at the end to put the final nail in the coffin and then dump that coffin into the River Styx so he could drown alive. “Pathetic, you call me, but perhaps, then, Miss Hawthorne, you’d be enlightened to know the feeling.”

She stares at him, unfazed and still amused. “How so?”

“You’re going to be our bait, and you’ll have no complaints about it!” He pauses to think, and then he points accusatory at her. “We’ll get the boys to call in by offering you as a prize at the dance!”

All the fun drops from her, and it’s her turn to flush red as her hair. “What?! No! Absolutely not!”

Jonny sputters, “W-wait, guys! Hold on!”

“Miss Hawthorne, we’ll hold an impromptu contest for the boys’ chance to win an exclusive dance and dinner date with you at the Halloween Ball!” Rebecca attempts to speak up in refusal, but both she and Jonny pause at Thanatos' large, determined  _ grin _ . It almost looks crazy when matched with the dark circles and tired bags under his eyes. “It eliminates men not interested in women or dating in general, and since you’re a redhead, you fit the bill close enough that our culprits might use this chance to test your ability to fulfill their needs.” He hurriedly tucks his phone away. “And with the News Office on our side, we can promote the contest quickly and efficiently!”

“Do I get  _ any _ say?!” Rebecca finally asks. Thanatos pauses, and the grin quickly flips into a serious frown. He nods.

“If you absolutely don’t wish to, then no, I won’t  _ force _ you.” He blinks heavily a few times, patting himself on the cheeks. “But it’s worth a shot, isn’t it? For once, Miss Hawthorne,  _ truly _ think of what’s at stake here; two lives were already lost, and wasn’t it you who said no one else can die?”

She has! She has thought of what’s at stake so many times, but the guilt pulls at her every vein, vessel, and nerve, played and plucked like a sad strings’ ensemble. She can hear the voice in her skull, mocking her, that of Estelle’s. She looks Thanatos dead in the eyes and, after only another moment of hesitation, nods firmly.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” She hugs herself. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I’m not asking you to like it, Miss Hawthorne,” he responds.

Rebecca looks between both of the boys. “Will this really work?”

“I mean,” Jonny starts. “It sounds like a solid enough plan for something shouted out of spite and revenge so sure? Why not?”

Thanatos yawns and wobbles. “Then let’s get to it.” Jonny catches him and holds him upright.

“You need sleep!” Jonny scolds. Rebecca nods in agreement.

“Certainly.” She tucks some hair behind her ear and looks away. The strings pull harder. “How about. . . You’re both excused for the day; go back to your dorm, and I’ll cover for you until tomorrow.”

They haven’t a moment to question it as Rebecca pushes past them and exits their club room. Thanatos watches her glazedly, but when he squints, he swears he can see someone else with her as she walks through the door. However, when he attempts to rub the sleep from his eyes once more, the image disappears along with Rebecca.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter! From here on out, all FAQ stuff will be added down here as needed. If there are any question, comments, critiques, or concerns, feel free to comment below or email me at sunnytothed@gmail.com


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